Good Friend Chouji
by Drinking Acid
Summary: AU. Everything was normal for Shikamaru, boring really. But then Kiba spiked the punch, Itachi transferred in, Neji played chess and it just went downhill from there. Thank God for Chouji.
1. Cloud Watching

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings: **_undecided (main pairing _MIGHT_ be yaoi)_

**Warnings:** _nothing too extreme. I might have more adult themes later on, like child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, and possible rape. Maybe._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

* * *

It was a rather beautiful day. The sky was a clear, pristine blue, reminding him of pure ice when light shines through it, and the clouds were a mix of billowing snowy clumps and wisps of white cotton candy. A thin breeze pushed the bands of condensation through the sky with practiced ease, churning them up and changing their shape like hands molding putty.

The perfect day for cloud watching.

As such, Shikamaru could be found on his favorite knoll in the park, lying on his back with his fingers laced behind his head. The grass was still a bit damp and his clothes were slowly retaining the dew, but he kept his dark eyes fixed on the mass of clouds above him.

_It looks like a winged lion._

He snorted. How mundane.

The watch buckled to his belt loop beeped, signaling it was, in fact, 8:00. He was late for school. Again. He sighed, staring moodily up at the seemingly still sky. Didn't he have a test today? Oh well. He'd have blown it off anyway. All those tests were far too easy and he was almost always the first one done, unless he fell asleep while the teacher explained the directions.

Clouds were far more interesting than tests.

Closing his eyes, he sighed and shifted his weight, getting comfortable. The ground was nice and soft, acting as the perfect mattress for a much-needed nap. Even if it was only 8:00 in the morning. Oh, wait, 8:0_2_. He sighed again. Time was so troublesome.

It was so very peaceful out on the hill with the clouds floating above him. He always liked clouds. They never rushed about, worrying about pointless things, or asked him stupid questions, or took up his time with annoying conversations. They simply were. And if the whole human race disappeared, the clouds would always remain, because they weren't human and thus didn't come with human deficiencies.

If only human's were more like clouds.

But then they wouldn't be human, would they?

He smiled to himself a little.

_Let the clouds be, _he thought_. They deserve to be one of a kind._

From the corner of the park, directly across from the Circle K, Shikamaru caught the rustle of cellophane and the crunch of chips. He wasn't in the least bit surprised or annoyed, even as the sound got closer, thus louder, as the mystery person made their way over the sand box of the playground and the grass of the picnic area. Solid foot steps sounded in his ears, and he waited for the person, his eyes closed and his body lax. He could be patient if he wanted to.

There just happened to be very few reasons to be patient.

"Shikamaru." The voice was thick, as if the person's mouth was full of food, but questioning in a polite sort of way. He opened one eye to gaze steadily up at his best friend.

Chouji was standing over him, potato chip bag in hand, blinking down at him with small, dark eyes. He sat down heavily next to him, dumping his book bag on the grass, and crossed his legs, shoving another mouthful of chips in his mouth. It was quiet for a moment as Chouji finished chewing, and the winged lion morphed into a snarling raccoon-dragon-thing. He stretched himself out a bit more, almost like a cat. The larger boy shifted uncertainly, setting his chip bag down.

"Shikamaru," he said again, "We're supposed to be in class, you know."

"Yeah." Silence. Chouji shifted again, casting a glance at Shikamaru, The thinner boy paid him no attention and watched as a satyr glided over him.

"You have a test today, don't you?" tried Chouji, stuffing more chips in his mouth as he struggled to say something. While he didn't care for school work, Chouji was very dedicated to trying his hardest in school, studying his heart out the night before and scrambling to remember everything the next day. Shikamaru never saw any of Chouji's tests, but since he never made honor roll, he doubted he was doing as well as he should, especially with the way he studied. It was a shame, really, because he worked so hard for every test, his eyes glued to the pages of his notes and text books. Hell, if he studied like that, every test would be a solid 100.

But Chouji wasn't like him. He couldn't simply close his eyes and remember everything he'd read while skimming the text book or his notes; he couldn't figure out long division of polynomials in his head or remember all the times tables up to 345. He wasn't able to just _know_ and _remember_ things like he could; he just couldn't. He was human.

And humans aren't perfect.

"So do you." Chouji dropped his eyes and stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth quickly. He shot a look at his friend before staring back up at the sky. It was obvious that Chouji was going to miss his test while sitting out here with him. Biology was probably already in session, and while he didn't have that class (AP Chemistry) Chouji did. He'd watched his friend study furiously for it at lunch the other day while he devoured three trays of food, one of which wasn't given willingly. At least Lee wasn't violent like Naruto when it came to food. Or Chouji for that matter.

"We should still be at school," mumbled Chouji, his hand already digging for chips to replace the ones he'd swallowed. Shikamaru closed his eyes.

"Then what're you doing out here?"

The crunch of chips stopped as Chouji contemplated the question.

Crunch, crunch, swallow.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Shikamaru blinked his eyes open and glanced over at him. Chouji stared back, already chewing away. He gave a half smile.

"Cloud watching." It was Chouji's turn to blink.

"During school?"

"It's the best time. Nice and quiet."

"Oh."

Chouji frowned, chewing thoughtfully with his hand resting in his chip bag. Shikamaru watched as a lion-faced horse gallop through the mass of white, a thin-bodied wolf with human hands only steps ahead. Briefly he wondered if this was how mythological creatures had been developed: through cloud watching. He could believe that. The cellophane crinkled again, splitting the quiet air with it's unintentional racket.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Shikamaru shook his head. "No. You're fine here."

"Okay."

The large boy continued eating, the soft crunch of chips filling their comfortable silence. Shikamaru gazed languidly up at the clouds, letting out a contented sigh. A few birds twittered nearby and there was the faint sound of cars rolling down the street every once in a while. All was serene.

"Isn't there a test in biology?" he said suddenly.

There was a pause between bites, Chouji's face twisting into another frown. He swallowed.

"Y-yeah."

"If you don't leave now, you won't make it back in time to take it."

He didn't answer. Shikamaru turned his head to land narrow eyes on his friend, searching out equally reluctant ones.

"It's okay."

Chouji looked uncomfortable, his eyes shifting nervously as he avoided Shikamaru's. Within moments he started eating again. Shikamaru turned to look up again, but the clouds had shifted to leave a large blue hole in his line of view. He scowled. The clouds were against him today.

Sighing, he stood up and stretched his spine until he heard a pop. He dusted off his uniform (dark green dress pants, a black belt and shoes, a white button-up shirt, a red tie and an optional green jacket (which he wore)) and slung the strap of his own bag over his shoulder, glancing over at Chouji. His friend was staring up at him with a rather surprised look on his face, his hand halfway to his mouth. Shikamaru felt a smile tug at his lips.

"Well? If we don't hurry, you'll miss your test."

Chouji smiled up at him, replacing his chips and standing up beside him. They headed down the knoll, strolling over bright green grass, soft yellow sand and then hard grey concrete. From the Circle K, they went right, to the intersection, and took a left, heading more towards the center of the city.

As they got closer to their school, they delved deeper into the thickly populated metropolitan area, entailing huge, crammed together buildings, bustling streets, rivers of honking, smog producing cars, and the constant din of city life. There was almost always something going on, whether it was good or bad, and so movement in some direction was inevitable. People from all walks of life strolled these streets, jabbering away on cell phones and sending emails on their handhelds. Life seeped from everywhere, filling up everything in the city with a thick pressure, yet leaving the jungle of metal and brick unnaturally empty. Shikamaru despised the city.

Their high school, Konoha High, was situated perfectly in the center ring of the city, within a ten block radius of both the fire station and the local police station. Lots of rich, famous families sent their kids there, since it was so close to the upper-class neighborhood and it's record for turning out well-rounded community idols made it perfect for teaching young heirs of wealthy business empires. Everything about the school was supposed to be elite and proper, the ideal grounds for which business tycoons could rear ruthless, cunning, money-minded children to take over their business in the event of an assassination (as that seemed to be the most likely way to go in the business world these days).

Chouji's father, for example, was the chef at a five star restaurant one of the country clubs owned in Uptown. The Akimichi's lived in a nice, three story house (not counting the basement) with a four car garage and a very pretty yard of freshly cut green grass and crisp hedges. He'd gone there once when Chouji had to stop by to run an errand for his father on their way to the park. The whole time they were there, Chouji had been stuttering like crazy and he'd gotten them both out as quickly as possible, bumbling excuses the whole way. It would have been funny if Chouji hadn't looked so distressed.

However, the Nara family wasn't rich at all. His father was a manager at a hardware store and his mother was a waitresses at a café on the East side. They lived in a small, plain, house (also on the East side) that was two stories high and shoved between a cluster of other houses. They didn't even own a car; there was no where to put it since they didn't have a garage, and the streets were so narrow it was a wonder it could function as a two-way street. It was quite a contrast to the lives of the school's usual students.

It was really all thanks to Asuma he was in the school. Without him, he'd have just gone on to the local high school, wouldn't have had any chance at a college, and would've probably ended up dead in an alley after a mugging when he was twenty.

Asuma was a teacher at Konoha High (a Chemistry teacher, actually) and was a regular customer of a small chess parlor on the East side. He smoked, which was annoying, but he was fairly strategical and that made up for it. Plus, he paid for his lunch on Wednesdays. But besides all that, Asuma had been the first person to actually trick him ——him, the great Shikamaru!—— into taking an IQ test.

Turns out he had an IQ of over 200.

He certainly hadn't been expecting that. In elementary and middle school, he'd been barely scraping by with C's, which his mother and father tsk-ed at before moving on with their lives, and none of the teachers had ever genuinely tried to get him to work harder at his school work (not that he would have), so he'd simply let it go and held his C minus average. Until he met Asuma in that chess parlor a whole freakin' year and a half ago.

Shikamaru was snapped out of his reminiscing as he and Chouji stepped onto the school campus. It was huge and sprawling, probably the only owner of that much green land this deep into the city, with four huge buildings lording over it. One was for classrooms (Second building), another was the library (Old building), then the tall-small administration building (First building) and finally the gigantic cafeteria/gym building (New building). A regulation football field and a huge set of bleachers sat behind the gym and two soccer fields bordered the library. Inside the gym was a nice, wooden basketball court, also with bleachers, and outside were three concrete courts, as well as two volley ball courts. The buildings were that mix of Roman/Greek architecture and red brick that the American East Coast was drowning in, with lots of white columns and windows, as well as huge wooden doors with knockers of lion heads that glared down at you with that knowing look as if it new your were doing something wrong. It screamed prestige, which Shikamaru also detested, though not nearly as much as cities.

They made their way across the front lawn and climbed the steps up to the front doors (luckily unlocked) and entered the main hall of the First building. It was the fastest way to the Second building, which was just a left turn and a hall away. Of course, taking this route when school was already _going on_ implies that there are far more instances where they could easily get sentenced to a week's worth of detention. This was, obviously, a bad thing. Chouji might not have complained about it, but Shikamaru had things he needed to do after school and staying at the damned place just because he was a little late in coming seemed extremely stupid.

_So, _he decided,_ we won't get caught_.

"Um, Shikamaru," muttered Chouji, wringing his hands nervously now that he'd finished all his chips and his hands had nothing to do, "Your class is upstairs, right? Shouldn't you go that way?" He gestured towards the center hall where the staircase was, leading up to the second and third floors of the administration building that served as the home for all the AP classes. Well, most of them; the AP Chemistry class was on the first floor with all the other lab classes like Home Economics, Cooking class, and all the sciences.

He waved his hand absently. "There's a staircase at the end of the Second building. I'll just go up that one."

Chouji didn't look all too reassured as they slunk down the hall to the end of the First building, where it turned into the Second building, and hurried cautiously down another corridor. They passed rows upon rows of lockers and doors, which they had to duck below the windows to avoid being seen. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the wide hall, making it seem as if a whole herd of kids was banging through the school. He was probably exaggerating, but that's what it felt like.

Shikamaru stopped just before Chouji's biology class, turning to face Chouji who was panting at having to scurry down the halls so quickly. He realized suddenly that they should have stopped at their lockers, but figured Chouji would be okay for the first class.

"Here's your class. Gotta go," he said, turning towards the staircase at the end of the hall. Chouji caught his sleeve, still bent over in an effort to catch his breath. He waited patiently until his friend could talk properly, discreetly shifting his weight to one foot.

"Wha-what am I s'pposed to teh-tell the tea-teacher?" gasped Chouji. He thought for a moment before grinning.

"Tell 'em you were eating too fast and got a chunk of sausage stuck in your throat, so you were late 'cause you were choking." Chouji laughed, his cheeks flushing scarlet. Shikamaru patted his shoulder.

"Good luck, Chouji."

His friend smiled, still laughing slightly in gasping breaths before turning to open the classroom door. He didn't hear what the teacher had to say about Chouji's punctuality (or lack thereof) since he was already at the base of the stairs and climbing. Figures his class had to be on the _third_ floor. They just couldn't make things easy, could they?

Since his IQ was so high, Asuma had managed to coerce the school board into letting him take college credit classes even with his horrible track record. This let him gain all the graduation requirements as well as a good start towards college. Of course, he was still a freshmen (no, seriously, he was), so he had to take all those other classes like P.E., Home Ec, and Cooking class, which he was sure he'd fail. He honestly sucked at cooking. Or any other sort of house work for that matter. Most of the time his mother did that, or she'd force him into doing it, which usually resulted in him doing it wrong (how? He'd just been washing dishes! How can you do that wrong?) and she'd make him do it all over again. And thus the park became a safe haven from his mother's "cleaning mood."

After an unnecessary amount of climbing (it was as if the building had something against him), he reached his first hour class, AP English. He wasn't in the best of moods, so he entered the room without any sort of class or finesse, and made a beeline for his desk.

"Oi! Nara! Where the hell have you been?" Anko, the AP English teacher, snapped at him, snapping her hand out to grab his elbow. He was effectively halted in his tracks.

"Outside."

"Doing what?"

"Cloud watching."

Laughing sputtering in the room, the shuffling of feet and bodies as they all leaned over to one another to laugh at the weird freshman with the spiky ponytail. Anko didn't look very impressed.

"You're telling me you were missing my lecture on _A Tale of Two Cities _because you wanted to watch a lump of water float through the sky?" she growled, her eyes narrowing rather dangerously. He, of course, didn't pay any mind to it, rolling his eyes with much exaggeration.

"Yeah."

She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose. "Nara, it's not even the end of the first quarter and already you're ditching class?" She shook her head. "I'm going to have to talk to Asuma about this, got it?"

"Yeah."

"Sit."

Shikamaru turned abruptly and went to his seat, dumping his bag on the ground before plopping down on his chair. Once he was seated, Anko returned to her lecture, scribbling nonsense on the dry-erase board with a fadding red marker. He leaned back, sinking down in his seat, and stared out the window. The clouds were back, dancing over the sky in a multitude of shapes and sizes, capturing his attention immediately.

Thank goodness for window seats.

As Anko's voice provided background noise for his wandering thoughts, Shikamaru wondered if Chouji was doing well on his test.

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	2. The Buildings Are Against Me

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings: **_undecided (main pairing _MIGHT_ be yaoi)_

**Warnings:** _nothing too extreme. I might have more adult themes later on, like child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, and possible rape. Maybe._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you._

* * *

School hallways had the annoying habit of being loud. Very, _very_ loud. All those kids storming down the stone-tiled floors, talking with blaring voices and obnoxious shouts. It was like walking through a sea of howler monkeys. Shikamaru was sure that if an atomic bomb went off in the Second building hallway, no one would've heard a thing. They'd all be dead of course, but that wasn't the point.

His next class was history, one of the few classes he had with Chouji. History didn't have any sort of AP class except Government, which only seniors could take if they'd passed American Government in their junior year. It was one of the few classes Asuma hadn't bent the rules to get him into. Not that he minded of course; it was nice to have a class he could just blow off and spend sitting next to Chouji, who'd have smuggled in some sort of snack and would be munching contentedly away at throughout the entire lesson.

Even a genius needs a brake.

Opening the door, he stepping into the history classroom, noting that the teacher was, predictably, late. It still baffled him as to why Kakashi hadn't been fired yet with his attendance record, especially since he wasn't even that good of a teacher. He had a hunch as to what the teacher was doing (which involved the very dirty book, Icha Icha Paradise, that never seemed to leave the man's hands, even while teaching), though he had no proof to back it up. Even if he did have evidence of his theory, he wouldn't have complained about it to the school board. Too troublesome.

Several of the students were already spread about in class, one of which was Chouji, who was sitting in the second-to-last row and second column from the windows. His friend was snacking away on a bag of mini chocolate chip cookies (where he got it, he had no idea. Food just seemed to appear around Chouji) and his note book sat open and ready to be written in, a pencil sitting patiently atop it, should the occasion ever arise that notes needed to be taken. This was a vain attempt, seeing as it'd be twenty or so minutes before Kakashi ever showed up, if it were a "good" day. But that was Chouji for you; he never was one to doubt others.

Since this wasn't an AP class, the students were all freshmen and thus far more immature, and took to vandalizing the class in the period of time Kakashi decided to remain elusively absent. While he never took part in this, several other students did, most of them throwing around paper airplanes or spit wads, as well as scribbling chicken scratch on the chalk board and fiddling with the TV hanging in the corner wall. The ringleader of this rowdy brigade was a blonde, blue-eyed, ball of energy by the name of Naruto Uzumaki.

Shikamaru had only recently met Naruto, but already he had come to realize three things about the blonde: 1) He didn't like sitting still quietly for periods of time lasting more than eight seconds, 2) he liked to eat repulsive quantities of ramen in disturbingly short amounts of time, and 3) he made a habit of going up to new people and asking to be friends. That was how they'd met, actually. When he'd first stepped foot on campus with Chouji, the blonde had immediately come up to them, first to talk with Chouji and then to chatter incessantly at Shikamaru. Totally taken off guard, it never occurred to him to just tell the blonde to shove off and his lack of argument seemed to tell the bubbling chatterbox that they were friends. He had yet to attribute these inane qualities to the boy's actual nature or to his blondness (those dumb blonde jokes had to have _some_ basis in fact, even if it was blown unrealistically out of proportion).

Also in this class were Kiba Inuzuka, Hinata Hyuuga, Sakura Haruno, Ino Yamanaka, and Shino Aburame, along with a bunch of other no-name kids. Hinata and Shino were seated in the back row, just to the right of Chouji, and Sakura and Ino were giggling with a clump of preppy girls in the middle of the room. Kiba was bounding wildly around with Naruto, trading playful jibs and insults with one another, the dark-haired boy grinning widely to show sharp canine teeth (sometimes he wondered if he boy was half dog). Several other boys and girls were clustered around, talking with each other about various different things, some of them either watching or joining in with Naruto's spastic movements as he started booby trapping the room (i.e., taking all the ink out of the pens on Kakashi's desk, lining the desk drawers with glue so they'd stick shut, constructing a "card" castle out of text books, etc.)

A perfectly normal day.

For now.

Fate had the nasty habit of making things more difficult than they had to be. Like stair climbing. If they had elevators, what was the point of having stairs? It just didn't make sense.

"Hey Shikamaru!" called Chouji in greeting, his face split with a wide smile. He couldn't help but grin back, making his way to the desk beside Chouji's and dumping his bag on the ground beside his seat. His friend offered the bag to him, asking without asking if he wanted any. Shikamaru took a few, munching thoughtfully on them as they watched Naruto and Kiba suddenly convert from giddy troublemakers to arguing foghorns.

"—Jeeze, Naruto! I was just sayin'—!"

"Take it back!"

"No!"

"Dammit, Kiba, take. It. Back!"

"No way, ya whisker-faced wakadoo!"

"What the hell's that s'pposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like, blondie!" Naruto snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. Beside him, Chouji ate faster, his eyes squinting in worry. Shikamaru couldn't find anything to worry about. They did this every day.

In fact, this was about the time that—

"Back off, Baka-inu."

—Gaara shows up.

The dark, dangerous teen was standing behind Kiba with his arms crossed, annoyance painfully clear on his face. Gaara Sabaku was the school's unanimous "scary guy" and had rightfully earned his title: he had short, blood red hair, wore dark, baggy clothes (mostly black), had pierced ears, a red tattoo of the Japanese character "ai" (love) on his forehead, and, above all else, his eyes were always lined with a thick band of black eyeliner, emphasizing already frighteningly pale green eyes. There were rumors that he carried a switchblade in his pocket so that he could murder people he didn't like, but Shikamaru never found any proof of it, and for the time he'd known him, the boy had been fairly tame, though cold and a bit sarcastic (okay, a LOT sarcastic). It probably had a lot to do with him and Naruto being best friends since elementary school, but it was difficult to tell with the way they bickered sometimes. Far too troublesome. Either way, Gaara was bluntly over-protective of his energetic friend and picking a fight with Naruto meant picking a fight with Gaara, which was, quite possibly, the dumbest thing to do in one's entire life.

Seriously.

Kiba leapt away from Naruto, shooting Gaara an uneasy look. Even the canine-obsessed teen knew he was in a bad position, and opted to play the safe game and _not_ aggravate possibly the most dangerous boy in school. Kiba scurried to his seat beside Shino and silence filled the room for a moment, before the bell starting second hour rang and the usual babble returned, leaving Naruto and Gaara alone at the front of the room.

Said blonde whirled on his friend, his face curled into a frown.

"I could've handled that!"

Gaara just rolled his eyes in mocking, earning a furious look from the blonde. The blood-haired teen stalked away, siting down a seat away from Shikamaru. Naruto followed after, grumbling at Gaara's interference in his fight, sulkily placing himself backwards in his seat so as to rest his elbows on Shikamaru's desk. He raised an eye brow at the blonde, deftly reaching for more cookies.

"What were you and Kiba fighting about, Naruto?" asked Chouji after swallowing, angling the bag so as to let Shikamaru get more cookies. Naruto growled, glaring grumpily at the desk's surface.

"He was just being a bastard. Damn dog-boy!" Gaara rolled his eyes again, having turned around to face his friend.

"He asked if you and Sasuke were going out, right?"

Naruto's face went bright red and he whirled around to glare haughtily at the green-eyed boy, who simply smirked at him. Shikamaru laughed and leaned farther back in his seat as he took a bite of his cookie.

"No he did NOT! Th-that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

"Then you obviously have never heard yourself talk."

"I'm not dumb! You're dumb!"

"Yo kettle? This is the pot: you're black."

"What does that _MEAN?_ Everyone keeps saying it, but I don't know what the freak it means!"

". . . Freak?"

"Huh? Oh, well, I was going to say fuck, but that came out instead."

"Jeeze, blondie, is your brain broken again?"

"Oi! There's nothing wrong with my head, raccoon-eyes!"

"I bet if I hit your skull, there'd be an echo."

"Ah-HA! I've already tried that, and it doesn't echo!"

". . . Why would you hit your head?"

"I didn't do it on purpose, I just ran into a wall."

". . . Thus the mystery is explained."

"And what's _THAT_ supposed to mean?"

It was always entertaining to listen to them talk, he realized, swallowing the rest of his cookie. They were a lot like brothers, the way they fought and joked with one another, and if it weren't for the fact that they looked absolutely _nothing_ alike, he could've believed that. However, Naruto was the son of one of the teachers here (something Umino. He supposed he was adopted, or maybe Umino was divorced), and was just a step higher on the wealth chain that Shikamaru was. It was only because of his dad that he was even going to this school. No offense to the blonde, but he wasn't especially bright.

The Sabaku's, meanwhile, were one of the top four wealthiest families in the whole city, second only to the Hyuuga's in wealth and power. Even the Uchiha's were lower than them, only gaining their prestige from the police and law system, as well as some politics, while the Sabaku's were historically associated with the country's politics dating back over fifty years. The Haruno's worked only in manufacturing and businesses, giving them limited access to political say even if they made a lot of money and pretty much ran the job market. Only the Hyuuga's ruled in all the territories, but that had more to due with them having more family members than actually being _better_ than the rest of them. No matter what they seemed to think.

Despite all that wealth, Gaara didn't flaunt his money around or bribe kids and teachers like some of the other students did. In fact, if Shikamaru met him on the street in some random act of chance, he would've never guessed the gothic teen lived in a huge mansion in the best part of Uptown.

"What do you mean I look like a cat?" roared Naruto suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at his red-haired friend. Shikamaru blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings as Gaara sighed in exasperation. Chouji was trying hard not to laugh too obviously.

Kakashi took that moment to appear at the door, halfway through a lame excuse for his lateness ("oh, a car got stuck in a tree and I just had to set it free" or "I was helping a goldfish cross the street" or even "there was a poker game and there was this lovely chocolate coin in the pool, so I just had to join" and other crap like that).

The one visible eye on Kakashi's face blinked and the silver-haired man appeared to be grinning under his mask.

"Well, you're too stupid to look like a fox, and Inuzuka already claimed dog, so there really wasn't any other choice, now was there?"

Everyone laughed at Kakashi's answer, as well as the shocked/furious/embarrassed/I'm-gonna-kill-you look on Naruto's face. He started shouting curses across the room at the teacher, who smiled and threatened detention, resulting in Naruto's quick, albeit grudging, retreat to his seat. Shikamaru sighed and laid his head on the desk.

Time for a nap.

* * *

P.E. sucked.

Scratch that. ALL physical activity that didn't involve _breathing_ were worthless, annoying and so freakin' _TROUBLESOME_. P.E. was MADE of crap like that, the kind of crap that forced him to participate or else he'd fail and then he'd have Asuma on his case about getting him into the school only to get kicked out because he was too freakin' lazy. He actually felt like taking a spork and gorging his eyes out just to get out of the damned class.

But that would be too troublesome.

Besides, Chouji was in this class.

"Alright students, get over here so I can shout at you as a group!"

The P.E. teacher, Kureni, called out at them, blowing her whistle for emphasis. The bumbling mass of students, mostly freshmen, huddled around her, grumbling and groaning like the tired, lazy children they were. Not to say that Shikamaru wasn't one of them; hell, he was practically their freakin' mascot.

"Okay, so it's almost the end of the quarter and some of you aren't going to pass. So, to help you mediocre marshmallow heads out, I'm going to give you a chance to get some extra credit."

Oh joy. _Work_.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. In his last class, Honors Trig., he'd napped through the whole hour without any disturbances. The desks weren't very good pillows and the hard, plastic chairs were far from comfortable, and, though his math teacher Hayate didn't care if he slept through class, there was no possible way to sleep through a P.E. class. He had to _pay attention _in this class, whether he wanted to or not, and it was far too troublesome to do so. If it weren't for that blasted bell, he'd have slept the whole day away. Alas, the building hated him.

And so here he stood, Chouji fidgeting nervously on one side and Naruto jumping giddily on the other, silently wishing for that spork.

"You can either walk ten times around the foot ball field to get full marks for today, or you can run five laps around it and get an extra day's worth of points. For every two laps you run after that, you can get another day's worth of extra credit. Got it? Good. Start walking."

He and Chouji started walking with the masses, the few, brave (more like insane), souls among them breaking out of the swarm to run around the healthy green football field. Naruto, unsurprisingly, was among them, shooting forward with a surge of energy quite unhuman, shouting over his shoulder at the other students trailing behind him with much gusto.

"Oi! I bet I can run twice as fast as you, Sasuke-bastard!"

Said bastard glowered at the bellowing boy, heaved a long-suffering sigh, and jogged forward.

Shikamaru and Gaara rolled their eyes in sync, and he couldn't help but mumble a, "_troublesome_."

Sasuke Uchiha was possibly the most anti-social, arrogant, cold-hearted jerk in the whole freakin' school. No, the whole _city_. All the girls fawned over him, the boys envied him, and he had enough money and connections to take over a small country (all he really had to do was bribe the football team, but that was beside the point). He also happened to be on the basketball and track team, and was taking a bunch of honors classes. Shikamaru was sure that kid had a stick up his ass.

Until he stepped within eyesight of Naruto.

Once those two were withing range of one another, he changed entirely. For some reason nobody could fathom, Naruto had deemed Sasuke his ultimate rival in life and thus took every opportunity to shove the Uchiha's face in the dirt, sometimes even literally. And every time, the black-haired boy would answer him and end up besting the blonde at his own game. No one was sure if Sasuke actually agreed with this setup (it wasn't like he'd tell anybody anyway. Anti-social bastard, remember?) so the reasons he went along with the blonde's continuous challenges and contests were totally unknown. Not that the student population hadn't tried to figure it out for themselves.

Adequately explaining Kiba's earlier comment.

"Oh, and Akimichi," called Kureni, "You're missing a day's participation. I suggest you start running. You too, Nara, or else I'll tell Asuma."

Chouji's face went unnaturally pale and he started to wring his hands again and bite his lips. Shikamaru sighed and rubbed his temples. Behind him, he heard Gaara chuckle, and he threw a glare over his shoulder at the shorter boy. Green eyes laughed at him. Then, without any warning at all, he was blown straight into Chouji as a green blur raced past them.

"Oi! Watch it, bowl head!" yelled a kid ahead of them yelled, Zaku something, who'd also gotten knocked aside.

"MY APOLOGIES, YOUTHS OF THE SCHOOL!"

Ah, of course. Lee.

Rock Lee thundered up the side of the field, easily over-taking Naruto and Sasuke (who was winning), leaving a trail of dust in his wake. While an absolute deadbeat when it came to fashion (he wore a green jumpsuit and orange legwarmers for crying out loud! Even Naruto wasn't that dense, and he wore an orange parka! Not to mention his bowl cut hair style and huge caterpillar eyebrows), the boy in question was a prodigy in the physical arts, excelling in just about every sport he tried out in, no matter how grueling it might be. This was the main reason that he was here at all (the other being that he had money), which was solely to glorify the Konoha High sports teams. Only for the ones that matter, of course, like football and basketball, because everything else wasn't _good_ enough to raise the high status of the school. Not to say that Lee wasn't good at his "job," it was just that his task was . . . corrupted. Lee didn't seem to notice this, but Shikamaru did.

And it really, really bugged him.

For a second or two, before he let it go and focused on the present.

Sighing, he looked over at his friend. "Let's make like a tree and leaf." Chouji laughed, though he was still bitting his lips. "Come on, we'll go slow, okay?"

They spent the rest of the hour running slowly (it was more of a jog, really) around the football field. Several times, they'd stopped on the opposite side of the field, the farthest point possible away from Kureni, and caught their breath. Chouji had been pouring down sweat after the first lap and they were both panting heavily by the second. Neither of them were cut out for this kind of exercise, and they both felt like old jack-o'-lanterns that had sat out in the sun too long by the time they started their fourth lap.

Oh, Shikamaru **_LOATHED_** P.E.

Finally,_ finally_, class ended and they were sent to the locker rooms to change and shower. After that, he and Chouji left before the bell ("But what if we get caught?" "We're not gonna get caught, Chouji."), stoping at their lockers to dump off their books, replace them with their _other_ books, and then grab their lunch money before heading to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was simply the upper level of the gym, accessed through the huge set of stairs at the back of the building or the elevator built into the wall. Windows were just about everywhere on the second story, rendering it pointless to install fluorescent lighting, making all the light that spilled into the insanely large room purely natural. It was big enough that the whole of second lunch (first lunch was after third hour, second lunch was after fourth) could not only get food from the built in kitchens, but seat themselves at the many, many round tables sprinkled randomly all throughout the room. If it should ever over fill (which was highly unlikely. It wasn't a very largely populated school), there was a set of stairs that led up to the roof where a few tables and a ramada had been put up. Locking the door that led up to the roof, though, completely defeated the purpose of having it, so the roof was pretty much off limits.

One look at the line and he sighed again. It was always so goddamn long. Chouji frowned, chewing his lip before turning to him.

"I'll buy lunch for us," he offered. Shikamaru shook his head slightly, steering them both to the end of the line.

"No. I'll wait in line too."

He almost wished he hadn't offered to stay. It took so freakin' _long_ to get their damned lunch, it was a wonder there was any food _left_. They left the line as quickly as possible after paying for their meals, and Chouji immediately started to munch away as he walked. One look at the "food" on his tray and Shikamaru decided to let Chouji have his lunch as well.

All the cliques were separated within the cafeteria, assigning a table or two to each group respectively. While he never paid much attention to the finer points of how the groups were divided, he did know where the preppy girls were (the cloud of perfume that hung around them and their altered skirts that would make even a hooker blush where all too obvious), where the jocks were (only they could have that much muscle and so little brain), where the Goths were (the mass of black in the corner was a huge tip off), where the gangsters were (nothing but baggy pants and sideways baseball caps) and from there, the edges blurred until it was just a mass of people and colors that filled in the gaps.

"Oi! Shikamaru! Chouji! Over here!"

Naruto was waving his hands wildly, as if they couldn't have heard him shout at the top of his lungs three tables away and hadn't been going to the _exact same_ table for the past six weeks. Rolling his eyes (he was doing that a lot today, wasn't he?), he led the way to Naruto's table, setting his tray down next to the ecstatic blonde's. Chouji sat on his other side, still eating, while placing his and Shikamaru's bags on the seat next to him.

Also seated at the table were Gaara (duh), Sasuke, Kiba, Shino, Lee, Hinata, a girly looking sophomore boy named Haku and his boyfriend Zabuza, Gaara's brother Kankuro, and Sai, an almost carbon copy of Sasuke. Most of them had also gotten food from the line, though Lee, Haku and Sai were sane enough (well, maybe not Lee) to bring edible food from home so as not to get food poisoning. Sasuke took one look at his food and then slid the tray down the table to Chouji who transferred the food onto his own tray almost automatically.

Haku and Zabuza were friends of Kankuro's, who had decided he wanted to eat lunch with his brother instead of eating with the drama troop (which both Haku and Zabuza were a part of) and Sai was Naruto's lab partner and neighbor. He had only just recently met these people, so they were utter mysteries to him, even if they were more than casual acquaintances. All of them got along well enough (despite Naruto and Sasuke's bickering and the rather oddly placed sweet talk that conspired between Haku and Zabuza) so there really wasn't much to complain about, really. Except maybe the noise.

He despised noise, even more than the city. Actually, that's probably why he didn't like the city to begin with.

"So, yeah, I was thinking about it, and you know what I realized?" said Naruto excitedly.

"You can think?"

"Shut up Sasuke-bastard!"

"What did you realize, Naruto?" asked Kankuro, his grin rather creepy with his kabuki make-up on.

"That you're a natural blonde?" deadpaned Gaara. Kiba laughed, almost spitting out his milk. Or maybe he just realized it was past its expiration date.

"Shut up! I was thinking about how Halloween was only two weeks away!"

There was a moment of silence before the sentence sunk in.

"Oh, yeah. It is."

"You can count?"

"Shut up, Sasuke-bastard!"

"What's so great about that?"

"Sai! How could you say such a thing?"

"Easy, I just open my mouth."

"IT IS YOUTHFUL TO TRICK OR TREAT!"

"Wow, I need to go buy some candy."

"I have to take my brother trick or treating!"

"I don't trick or treat."

"Well, you will this year, Gaara."

"Tch, how troublesome."

He never did like holidays. Everyone got all excited over _one day _out of 365 of them and just _had_ to become a bunch of ninnies to carry out a stupid, pointless tradition. Halloween had originally been started in harvest season, just as winter set in, so that the youths of a community would go to every house dressed up in terrifying costumes and scare malicious spirits away from their homes. Now of course, there was no need for it, and so the holiday had lost its purpose. Yet people still continued to get dressed up and visited houses to "scare the spirits" upon the assumption candy would be offered for a reward.

"Oi, oi, we should have a party!" insisted Naruto, jumping up and down in his seat.

"Where?" asked Kiba, already growing excited at the thought of getting to trash someone's house. Naruto looked thoughtful, carefully considering his options.

"A house!" The group collectively rolled their eyes. Leave it to Naruto to state the obvious.

"No freakin' duh," growled Sasuke, sending Naruto a glare. "He meant _whose_ house are we going to."

"It has to be a place we can totally trash," said Haku sensibly. "With Naruto and Kiba there, a table or two are bound to get broken."

"Or a skull."

"Shut up, Sasuke-bastard!"

"Can't you think of something more creative than that, Dead Last?"

"Why you—!" snarled Naruto, jumping up to grab at the Uchiha's neck. Gaara gripped the back of his shirt and pulled him back down with a grunt.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, blondie."

"Haha! He called you blondie!"

"Shut up, Baka-inu." Kiba slunk back in his seat, scowling.

"We still need to figure out where to have this party of ours," cut in Sai. Kiba and Naruto sulked in their seats, sending glares at Gaara and Sasuke respectively. Both boys mentioned ignored the stares sent their way, opting to listen to the party debate.

"Sai's right. So, any suggestions?"

"I heard there's a party at Tenten's," said Haku thoughtfully. "Instead of organizing our own, why don't we just go there?"

"Trash Tenten's?" asked Kankuro excitedly. "Hell yeah, I'm in. Whose gonna go?"

"Out of all of us? Um . . . ."

"I'm going!"

"PARTIES ARE MOST YOUTHFUL!"

"Right on, Fuzzy-brows!"

"Gaara, Temari and I are all going."

"I never said I'd go."

"What? But raccoon-eyes! You have to!"

"I'm going. I want to spike the punch— I mean, party till the sun falls down! Yeah!"

"Th-then I-I'll guh-go too."

"Hn."

"Do I have to go?"

"Yes, Zabi."

" . . . Damn."

"I'm not going."

"What? Not you too, Shikamaru!"

"Why not?" Chouji looked at him imploringly, having halted in his eating to lock eyes with him. Shifting slightly, he frowned.

"I don't like parties."

"Aw, come on. It's fun! Trust me, you'll love it." Kankuro grinned reassuringly, holding two thumbs up. He just sighed.

"It's too troublesome."

"Everything is too troublesome to you," laughed Naruto. As true as that was, he felt himself bristle just a bit, as if he were offended or something. How unlike him.

"I-I kinda want to go," mumbled Chouji uncertainly. Well _that_ shut down any arguments he might have had. He sighed again and pushed his tray on top of Chouji's empty ones.

"Fine." Naruto punched the air with joy, a wide grin spread across his face.

"Alright! Everyone's coming! We're gonna rock till the sugar high wears off!"

"I don't EVER want to see you on a sugar high."

"What? I'm not _that_ bad!"

"No, trust me, you are."

"What do you know, raccoon-eyes?"

"Plenty more than you."

"Amen to that."

"Shut up, Sasuke-bastard!" Gaara had to pull a little harder to drag Naruto back to his seat as the blonde lunged across the table again. Sasuke looked highly amused, and just watched the other boy struggle to free himself from the Sabaku's death grip.

"Thanks," smiled Chouji in between bites, his eyes shining a little brighter than before. He just grunted, resting his chin on his fist and his elbow on the table. The steady sounds of Chouji eating and the joyful din of his table mates echoed in his ears as he frowned to himself.

_Damn._ Now he had to go to a party.

At least Chouji would be there.

* * *

"Shika, may I talk to you?"

He stopped just as he passed Asuma's desk on his way out the door. The end bell for fifth hour had rung previously, allowing the students of the AP Chemistry class to leave for their sixth hour. _What was it he wanted?_ Turning, he approached Asuma's desk and let his bag fall to the ground, his fingers curling loosely around the strap.

"Yeah?"

"I talked to Anko this morning. She said you came in late." Ah. So that's what he wanted to talk about. He shrugged.

"I came, didn't I?" Asuma smiled.

"Courtesy of Chouji, I presume?" He shrugged again.

"So?" The man laughed. If it weren't against school rules, he would've had a cigarette in his hand.

"You two are so predictable. You might as well be an old married couple for how well you know each other." An image of him and Chouji, old and withered, sitting in a park holding hands like old couples did on TV flashed through his head and he shivered. What a disturbing thought.

"That's disturbing." Asuma laughed again.

"Maybe, maybe," he paused and smiled shrewdly up at him. He had the slightest inkling that the man was thinking of something quite a bit more awful than the previous mental image that had invaded his head. That alone was more unsettling than it should have been.

"Look, Shika, just try to be on time more, okay?"

"Sure Asuma." He gave the younger boy a skeptical look, which he rolled his eyes at, before gesturing to the door.

"Go, or you'll be late." He slung his bag over his shoulder and as he passed the threshold of the door, he mumbled,

"Tch, so troublesome."

The drama class was located in the auditorium that was, surprisingly, able to fit itself at the end of the Second building, not too far from the science rooms. How they'd ever managed to fit the huge, slope-floored room in such a small portion of the Second building was beyond him, but he suspected that a good chunk of it went under ground. It could hold pretty much the whole school, though for performances they split them up by lunches, and the stage was big enough for the drama club to put on productions. There was even an orchestra pit, but it was only used for the really big plays that got written about in the newspaper.

Shikamaru really had no idea why he was in that class to begin with, but he had a suspicion that Asuma had given it to him as a joke (or maybe the building was messing with him again. The buildings all had it out for him, he knew it). All the other drama students were already there, spread out along the first three rows of the center section, with only the stages lights on to provide light. From his vantage point at the top of the sloping floor, he could easily pick out Kankuro's trademark kitty-ear hat and Shino's high collar, as well as the dyed electric blue hair of the Hotta twins, Ukon and Sakon. There were several other kids there as well, including Lee, Tenten (a volley ball player that wore her hair in buns), and a girl with bright red hair by the name Tayuya.

One person was absent however. Any moment now and he'd—

"HELLO STUDENTS! HOW ARE YOUR YOUTHFUL LIVES TODAY?"

Right on cue.

Gai came bounding onto the stage with a wide smile and huge (HUGE!) eyebrows that rivaled even Lee's. Much like Fuzzy-brow's, the man was dressed in a green jumpsuit and orange legwarmers, striking a rather disturbing pose that Lee mimicked before leaping up on the stage to stand beside their teacher.

"HOW ARE YOU TODAY, LEE?"

"I AM YOUTHFUL, GAI!"

"I'M SO GLAD! YOU MUST ALL ENJOY YOUR YOUTHFULNESS!"

"YOSH!" They hugged each other, yelling more nonsense about "youthfulness" and crap like that.

It was like a really bad comedy act. One that made him want to run the hell out before Gai ever saw him. Actually, that's exactly what he would do. He quietly tried to edge his way back out the door, casting a cautious look around him for any witnesses. Figures the Fates would hate him. Or maybe it was the building's minions at work again.

"NARA! COME DOWN AND JOIN OUR YOUTHFUL GROUP!" Gai and Lee both grinned up at him, holding out a thumbs up as their perfect teeth gleamed a brilliant white. They could've easily been mascots for a tooth paste commercial.

Sighing, he slunk down the runway to the front rows, and upon reaching it dumped his bag on the ground and slouched into the nearest chair. The Hotta twins leaned forward from their seats behind him and rested their arms on the backs of the seats to either side of Shikamaru. Identical sets of bright eyes glittered mischievously at him and suddenly he found himself seriously considering the stability of his sanity.

He had the uncany suspicion that he wouldn't have any left by the end of the day.

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	3. I Just Need A Nap

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Sai x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, and rape. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you._

———————————

* * *

Shikamaru rubbed his temples in frustration, silently praying to any god that would listen to get him out of this hell hole he was so obviously trapped in.

"Oh come on, Shikamaru," growled Sasuke, his patience (patience? What patience?) wearing thin. He glared at the black-haired boy, the fleeting thought of taking his pencil and jabbing him with it leaping to mind before he batted it away with a silent "_too troublesome_."

Why was he in such a bad mood? Because he'd been asked to do what he hated doing, more than P.E. Although it was the root reason as to why he didn't like P.E., he still hated it quite a bit more than anything else.

He'd been told to _work_. Him! The great Shikamaru! It was blaspheme! . . . Well, maybe not blaspheme, but sure as hell close enough! And it wasn't as if he could just ignore this teacher, oh no, because this teacher was _scary_. Really, _really_ scary. Vampire scary. Pool full of pirana scary. Giant snake that's going to _eat you _scary.

Orochimaru.

Yes, the pale faced, yellow-eyed, lip-licking Orochimaru, who spoke with a hiss and smirked as his students' cringed when he came within earshot. The Orochimaru with long black hair and black mascara that rivaled Gaara's, who kept a giant anaconda in his classroom. The Orochimaru who _wouldn't stop coming _to their lab station!

"How damn troublesome," he mumbled, strapping on the goggles reluctantly, casting a longing look at the clock. The time-keeping disk was mocking him— they still had forty-five minutes left of class.

"Everything going well gentlemen?" asked Orochimaru in that infamous hiss. While his question was directed at the both of them, his eyes had locked onto Sasuke almost instantly, making the boy shift nervously under his gaze.

"Yeah, it is," he grumbled, taking up the test tube and measuring out 50 mL of water. The snake man (because that's really what he is: a humanoid snake) gave them one last smirk and strolled away, stoping at the lab station next to theirs to yell at the Hotta twins, who had been trying to make a mini bomb.

Sasuke sent him a scathing look, sitting himself down on the stool opposite of him and leaning over the table. Shikamaru cast him his own look, but continued to fiddle with the chemicals before him, absently turning on the Bunsen burner.

"What are you so irked about?" Sasuke asked, snatching up his own goggles irately. "It's _just_ a lab."

"But now I have to _work_," he complained, taking the small dosage of elements out of the dixie cup and dropping them in an empty test tube. "I was looking forward to a nap."

"Oh grow up," the other snapped. "You're not the only one who doesn't want to do this. And what did he mean by 'I won't expect anything less than full marks from you'?"

"Oh, he's just been talking with Asuma."

Sasuke eyed him, looking as if he were contemplating his response. He didn't bother waiting for him to speak, measuring out the right amount of drops for each test tube instead.

"Is . . . is Asuma your dad?"

"No."

"Oh."

They lapsed into silence (not nearly as comfortable as with Chouji, no), with Sasuke fidgeting nervously (trying poorly to hide it) while he continued on with the lab. He didn't ask for Sasuke's assistance and the Uchiha never offered it, instead taking to simply staring off into space with the occasional fidget as Orochimaru walked by. Seriously, it was like the guy had it out for Sasuke; he never left him alone.

Shikamaru was sitting in his Honors Biology class because, honestly, Asuma was messing with him. The man had even admitted it when he asked him about it, laughing and saying, "Well, I figured you needed to work in at least _one_ class besides P.E." Apparently Orochimaru was known for making his students work no matter what circumstances, and Shikamaru was an inevitable casualty. Figures Asuma would try to make things difficult.

It was the last class of the day, and he couldn't wait for it to end.

There was as sudden sizzling sound, followed by a popping and he only had enough time to duck down as the test tubes on the lab beside theirs exploded. A shriek of excited laughter was cut short as Orochimaru appeared with his eyes blazing in furry.

"Hotta 1! Hotta 2! What the _HELL_ have you done?" he snarled, his fists clenched so tight is was a wonder he hadn't drawn blood. Identical electric blue heads popped up from the other side of the table, grinning like crazy as they looked up at the snake man.

"We made—!"

"—a bomb!"

Shikamaru hit his head against the side of the table. This was _such_ a weird day.

* * *

"That one looks like an eagle flying."

He pointed up at the sky to a large cloud painted pink and purple in the setting sun's light. The sky behind it was a sort of red-purple, and the very edges of the clouds were glowing gold. Pale streaks of yellow shot through the air, split by the tongues of blazing moisture, reaching vainly out to the growing blackness behind them. The skyline was alight with fire, the sun sinking behind it in an array of throbbing heat.

Chouji stared up at it, chewing slowly as he examined it. He smiled, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, it does!"

They were sitting on the knoll at the park again, watching the clouds as they were drenched in the light of the setting sun. Right after school, they'd walked over there, chatting about a bunch of different things, grabbing some lunch from Subway, and wandering around aimlessly until he'd decided he wanted to watch the clouds. So here they were, sprawled out on the grass, Chouji munching on some chips, and Shikamaru pulling images out of the shadows and textures of the clouds.

"I think that one looks like bird-faced dragon. See it's long body?" said Chouji, pointing one pudgy finger up at the sky. He looked, his eyes discerning the vision from the expanse of colors, curling through the sky and glaring at him with vicious eyes.

"Yeah. Wouldn't want to run into that thing, would ya?"

Chouji laughed, swallowing another mouthful of food.

"No way. It'd eat me!"

They laughed. Silence seeped in around them, filling up the air with a comfortable, calming feel. As the clouds rolled over the sky and the sun sank lower, he closed his eyes in content, sighing pleasantly to himself. He always liked coming to the park with Chouji. Whenever he was in a bad mood or couldn't get something out of his head, or just wanted to talk, the boy would lend a patient ear and let him rant to his heart's content. No matter what he had to say or how he acted, the strawberry blonde would try his hardest to help him work through it, whether he could help him or not. In all the 15 years of his life, he'd never met anyone _ever_ as companionate as that. Chouji was one of a kind, totally unique, and yet, no one seemed to notice that. They never realized it.

This never ceased to aggravate him.

Chouji leaned back, crumpling his chip bag and stuffing it absently in his bag. They were utterly alone in the park, letting the crackle of the bag grate loudly on their ears. The kids who usually played in this park had gone home long ago and the picnic tables stood abandoned on the grass, small scraps of garbage littered around them. Like a metronome, a lone swing creaked as it swung back and forth, reminiscent of being ridden by the small youths.

"Thanks," said Chouji suddenly, "for, you know, going to the party."

Shikamaru looked over at him, noting how the other boy's eyes never left the sky. He offered a smile, lacing his fingers beneath his head.

"No problem."

There was a pause, where he stared thoughtfully at his friend, who blinked curiously back.

"Why was Kankuro so excited about trashing that Tenten girl's house?"

It had been bugging him ever since drama, when he'd watched the two bicker in a rather out of character way. Actually, it had been more of a cat fight, though if Gai hadn't been there it would have definitely turned into a wrestling match. He wouldn't have minded seeing that; the girl wore her hair in buns, so he'd never seen her with her hair down and he'd never _ever_ seen Kankuro without his make-up on.

Chouji shifted slightly, furrowing his brows as he stared up at the clouds.

"Well, it's kinda . . . well, it's _complicated_, but it's got something to do with . . . this kid . . . that used to go here. They kind of both, um . . . _liked_ him, and they're still fighting over him, and . . . ." He broke off, twisting his fingers nervously.

He blinked up at the clouds for a moment, thinking over what Chouji had said. Kankuro was gay? Huh. Didn't see that one coming.

"Who was it?" Chouji's face seemed to relax with relief and his voice lost it's hesitance.

"Oh, he doesn't go to this school anymore. He transferred in his sophomore year, or something."

"And they're still fighting over him?"

"I guess so. I don't know that much about it. I only heard about it from Gaara. We could ask, but Kankuro's pretty tightlipped about it."

"Nah, we'll stay out of his privet life. No need to go and piss him off."

"Yeah."

There was quiet again, and he closed his eyes, slipping into a light doze. Everything was so very calming, it was hard not to simply relax his mind and body, to fall into that restful haze. The hum of the city was dull and the clatter of the nearby people was drowned out by his own heartbeat, pounding softly in his ear like a lullaby. Behind his eyelids, the light dimmed slowly as the sun finally started to burry itself behind the buildings. He could have slept there peacefully through the whole night had he not been disturbed..

Soft fingers were pressed against his shoulder and Shikamaru opened one eye lazily. Above him, Chouji's face hovered, his features shadowed in the low light. He opened his mouth as if to say something, paused, thought better of it, and bit his lip.

"Um, Shikamaru? It'll get cold soon, so maybe we should go home?" he said it like a question, as if he were asking him if they could go home instead of suggesting it. This was a perfect example of one of the few (very, _very_ few) things he couldn't stand about Chouji.

_His inferiority complex_.

For as long as he'd known the larger boy, Chouji had been shy and uncertain: a classic pushover, really. It hadn't been so bad when they were in elementary school, but it had worsened during middle school, leaving him worryingly unconfident in himself. When he talked with people, he kept his eyes averted and he very rarely offered his opinion in a discussion, having taken to eating to occupy his mouth and hands. This shyness (fear seemed more accurate, really) was unpleasantly obvious, if one knew where to look. Nothing as extreme as Hinata, though, who had developed a speech impediment from it, but still, it wasn't _good_ by any means. He'd twist his fingers in his lap or chew on his lips, and when he spoke he kept his tone polite, but quiet, as if he wasn't sure if he should be talking.

But then he'd smile and laugh, or munch some more food, and everything was forgotten. Any sort of hesitation or fear that showed on his face was buried in the back of the other's minds, disappearing in a mist of thoughtlessness. None of those people took Chouji's hesitance seriously and they never realized that joking about his weight just made him more depressed and none of them had even _considered_ that he might be just as unhappy as they were.

They never notice _anything_.

Shikamaru had told him over and over that there was nothing wrong with him: that he wasn't fat or stupid or ugly or useless, like all bullies had claimed him to be. Again and again he'd convince his friend otherwise: that he was smart and useful, that he looked fine. Afterward he was rewarded with a sheepish laugh and a friendly smile, with sparkling eyes full of renewed hope; it made even him feel better. He hated it when that sad look entered his friend's eyes, even when he was smiling, and cursed the people who put that look on his face. Because his friend was pretty when he smiled.

He just wished Chouji would realize that.

Shoving his annoyance down, he spoke with as much ease as he could muster. "If you wanted to go home, you don't have to ask. It's not like I'm going to yell at you or anything."

"I didn't want you to stay out here alone . . ." he mumbled.

"I would've walked you home."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do—!" Shikamaru got up, stretching his back out and standing briefly on his toes.

"I don't _have_ to do anything," he said calmly, picking up his bag. "That doesn't mean I don't _want_ to."

"But—"

"Don't worry about it."

Chouji closed his mouth, still looking uncertain as he stood up beside him, gabbing up his own bag with clumbsy hands. They walked back down the hill, Shikamaru humming slightly off key as Chouji followed next to him. As they had earlier that morning, they crossed over to the Circle K, making their way back into the inner city with as easy a transition as if they'd simply stepped over a chalk line. They walked in silence, Chouji absently tugging at his tie and Shikamaru burying his hands in his pockets.

Then, as if something had just occurred to him, Chouji looked over at him with squinting eyes.

"Do you think we have to wear costumes to the party?"

Shikamaru almost stopped short, snapping his head around to look at his friend. He hadn't even _thought_ of that! He sighed.

"Ugh. I hadn't even thought of that."

Chouji laughed pleasantly.

* * *

"I'm home."

His voice echoed forlornly through the empty house, ringing flatly in his ears. The lights were all turned off, thrusting the small house in an blanket of shadows that obscured and dramatized the shapes of furniture splayed out in the rooms. It gave the house a haunted look, as if ghosts lived there instead of people, and he almost paused as he stepped through the doorway. Tossing the feeling away, he closed the front door and flipped on the hallway light, making his way to the nearest room.

Neither of his parents were home, he knew, so he wasn't surprised at the lack of response. He'd have been shocked stiff if someone had replied to his greeting. Both of them worked late and his father tended to stay for parties held at his friends' houses, stumbling home drunk at some obscure time of night. His mother didn't work nights on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and his father had the day off on Thursday, which made that the only day of the week that they actually saw each other all at the same time.

He couldn't say he was looking forward to that.

In the kitchen he found a note taped to the refrigerator with his mother's handwriting scrawled over it. Taking a cup from the cabinet above the dishwasher, he took the juice (apple, not orange. He didn't like orange juice; too much pulp) out and poured himself half a glass. As he replaced the carton, he snatched the note off the dimpled surface, heading up to his room with his juice in one hand and his bag slung over his shoulder. Climbing the stairs, he glanced over the note.

_Shikamaru—_

_I forgot to make dinner, so eat the leftover meatloaf next to the mayonnaise, K?_

—_Mom_

Since when had she felt compelled to leave him a note? Shrugging, he crumpled it up and stuff it in his pocket, and having reached his door, turned the dull brass knob.

Compared to the bathroom it was a spacious, but in actuality, it was quite small. Against the right wall, a bed had been tucked away (the blankets wrinkled, unmade), a small bedside table with a dusty lamp sitting comfortably beside it, and a chest of drawers stood on the opposite wall, a collection of nicknacks scattered over the top. Clothes were crumpled up on the floor (dirty and clean alike), comic books, chess pieces, and scribbled-on balls of paper strewn about the faded, worn carpet. Artificial light from the street lamp slithered in through the widow on the far wall, making the off-white walls appear yellow.

Dumping his bag at the door and setting his cup on the bedside table, he flopped himself on his bed, letting out a contented sigh. He closed his eyes, tucking a hand behind his head, and stretched himself out on his bed, settling into his beaten-in mattress.

He was asleep within minutes.

* * *

The night had settled into his room, blinding Shikamaru with limitless shadows as he found himself staring up at his ceiling. It was late, yes, but he had no idea how late, or why he was awake at all as his tired mind tried to figure out what was out of place.

And then he heard it: a thump, like something falling against the wall downstairs. His mind was annoyingly blank for moment, all fuzzy with sleep, and he couldn't quite piece together what was going on. There was another thump, louder now that whoever it was had cleared the stairs.

A thick, muffled voice filtered through the wood of his door, and he could make out the sounds of drunken muttering outside his room.

" . . . Damned stairs, leepin' up at me _hic_ I gotta . . . huh huh . . . drown stairs! _Hic_!"_ Thwack. _"Shit!"

He held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he prayed in his head (no no don't let him come in here please please just don't don't come in here don't) and griped the sheets with sweaty palms. There was heavy breathing, accompanied by cursing and hic-ups as the man hovered outside his room. Shikamaru could barely breath, his chest so tight and his pulse thundering in his ears, the unsettling sensation of pinpricks running along his spine and his hands gripping so tightly that his muscles were throbbing in pain.

And then the man was stumbling away, the door to his parents room opening as the man entered, closing it with an unnaturally loud click.

Letting out a shaky breath, he let his hands uncurl, his muscles wincing at the strain put on them. Shivers rolled through him and with every beat of his heart his whole body would shudder and lurch, his lips and fingers quivering uncontrollably.

Holy _shit_ that was close.

A sigh passed over his lips and he pressed the palms of his hands against his face, startled to find how hot his face was and just how clammy his hands were. Pressing his eyes closed tighter, he forced his radical breathing to steady, trying to control the beat of his heart and slow it down. He needed to calm down.

He needed to calm down and _sleep_.

Try as he might, it wasn't until the faint trickles of sunlight brushed the horizon that Shikamaru finally lapsed into a fitful sleep.

* * *

"Are you alright?"

Chouji's voice was concerned, and he'd even stopped eating to hold shikamaru's gaze. He sighed, massaging his eyes gently as he struggled to find something to say. It seemed his mind had run off on him, and as they strolled over the grassy lawn of Konoha High, he caught himself desperately searching for words.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I . . . just need a nap." Chouji smiled slightly, though he still seemed concerned..

"Oh. Okay."

They continued on, Chouji munching on his apple (he said he was trying to loose weight; "You just needed to eat healthier foods" "It _is_ healthier food.") and Shikamaru tried to snap himself out of his daze. For now, at least, he needed to stay alert. Chouji had the tendency to suddenly become extremely perceptive and he really didn't want his kind-hearted friend to worry about him.

"Hey! Chouji! Shikamaru! Wait up!"

Naruto came barreling out of nowhere, yelling at the top of his voice and latching onto Chouji's arm. Said boy jumped in surprise, almost dropping his food and his body jerked awkwardly. His face scrunched up slightly in surprise (irked, he was irked) and he held his apple out of Naruto's reach.

"Hi, Naruto. What's up?"

"Hey Chouji, hey Chouji, do you gots any food I can eat?"

"You're grammar's horrible, Naruto."

Naruto spun around instantly, growling angrily in his throat at the red-head who stood behind him. He struck the impression of a yellow tabby cat bristling the fur along it's spine. It was actually kind of funny.

"Oi! Don't go lecturing me, raccoon-eyes!"

"Not that you'd listen anyway," droned Gaara. Naruto just snorted and turned back to face Chouji, a pleading look plastered to his face.

"So, do ya, huh, do ya?"

Chouji looked very much like he didn't want to give the blonde anything, but he was far too nice to actually say it. He shifted nervously, darting his eyes around uncertainly as he tried to find a way out. Shikamaru, sighing in aggravation, offered it to him.

"Hey Naruto, do you know if we have to wear costumes to this party of yours?"

The blonde looked startled, blinking at him in a very clueless way; the image fit him perfectly.

"Huh, I dunno . . . I _guess_ we could, but I don't really know, ya know? . . .oh wait, there's Haku, let's ask him— HEY HAKU!" All three of them clamped their hands over their ears as Naruto screamed across the grounds at the girly-looking boy, waving his hands wildly in an attempt to get the other to notice him. How he could've possible missed a jumping, orange, ball of energy that was Naruto was beyond them, but they couldn't really do anything about that, now could they?

"Hello to you too, Naruto," said Haku sarcastically as he came up to them, rolling his eyes. It seemed that just about everyone who knew the blonde ended up doing that at least once during the day. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Do we have to wear costumes to the party?" he asked, still bouncing up and down.

"It's optional, but I'm definitely dressing up." The sophomore looked rather proud of himself. Naruto grinned, punching the air.

"Awesome! Alright, I am SO getting a costume!"

"I'm not."

"Me neither."

"Yes, you are, raccoon-eyes! You're gonna be a . . . a . . . a rabid raccoon! And Shikamaru, you can be an . . . hm . . . oh, a zombie!"

Shikamaru deadpaned, fixing the blonde with a blank stare. A zombie? Him? No freakin' way would he ever dress up like a slow-moving corpse.

"Chouji you can be! . . . Uh . . . hm, there aren't that many fat, scary people, are there?" Chouji's face fell slightly. "Well, ah, you can be, uh, a rock! Yeah! A big boulder or something."

Glaring, Shikamaru snorted. "If anyone's going to be a rock, it's you, Naruto. You're head is about as thick as one." Gaara laughed and Naruto scowled.

"No it's not!"

"Yeah, it is."

"Is not!"

"Yeah, sure, keep dreaming."

"I will!"

Naruto stormed off, scowling like a child who hadn't gotten his way, and Haku departed to get to his locker. Gaara laughed again, grinning in a rather unsettling way. The blood-haired teen didn't quite fit the "raccoon" image, but "rabid" certainly did.

"Nice one, Shikamaru." As the boy walked away, he caught sight of something just behind Gaara's temple, half buried beneath his strands of bright red hair. It was only a glimpse, a snapshot of something out of place, but it had already burned itself inside his mind.

"Come on, class is going to start soon," said Chouji, pulling slightly at his sleeve. He shook himself slightly, blinking his eyes forcibly, and followed after his friend. The bigger boy opened his mouth as if to say something, squinting his eyes a bit.

"Thanks, for saying that."

Shikamaru smiled.

"No problem."

* * *

"That'll be $7.34," he said dully, hitting the total button on the register. The man in front of him opened his wallet and pulled out a ten. He stuffed the ten in the slot for tens and handed $2.66 back. "Have a good day."

The bell on the door jingled as the man walked out, though not before holding the door open for a couple of giggling girls that strolled in. Shikamaru grimaced as the man snuck a look at their too-short skirts, the 40-something man blushing a bit before leaving. Adults could be _so_ perverted.

He was standing behind the cash register in a small café called _Vega's_, right in the middle of Barnes Street. It was packed between a bookstore and a music store, which was very good for the no-named store's business, which was probably the only reason the place was still open. It had a comfortable feel to it, with several small round tables and chairs around, as well as a few booths, with dim lighting that made it feel warm.

During the summer, he'd needed money to buy his school uniform, so he and Chouji (the boy had insisted he join him) had applied at _Vega's_ since it was one of the few places that hired fifteen-year-olds. After he'd gotten enough money, he'd tried to quit, but his mother had found out about it and upon realizing that her lazy-ass son was actually doing something _productive_, made him stay. So here he stood behind the counter, glaring miserably at the far wall.

"Do you ever smile?" frowned Kabuto, the manager of Vega and a junior at a local college. The two of them had never really gotten along, but they weren't nearly as vicious as Kankuro and Tenten or Naruto and Sasuke. They simply didn't like each other.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Nothing. That's why I'm asking." He turned and walked into the back room, not even bothering to wait for my eye-roll. This was all far too troublesome.

One of the giggling girls came up to the counter, make-up painted on and her shirt unbuttoned just a little too low. He didn't stray his eyes from her face, though he would much rather stare out the window at the thin sliver of sky he could see.

"Um, can I have, like, that cupcake? Oh, but, like, does it have any, like, _fat_ in it?"

By _gods_ this was such a bad day.

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	4. Phone Call

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Sai x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, and rape. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you._

_

* * *

_

Wednesdays were the second worst day of the week. Monday, of course, was the first, being so very smug and torturous, but Wednesday was most definitely the second. It seemed that, no matter what the days had been like before, the skies on a Wednesday were almost always mocking him in their lack of conformity. Either they were unbearably clear and open, without a single strip of moisture to break the never ending blue, or it was dark and murky, with dingy grey clouds slogging through the skies at a pitiful rate, none of them fit to mold themselves into mythical shapes that sparked the imagination.

Yes, Shikamaru did not like Wednesdays.

So instead of cloud watching on such an uncooperative day, he had found another way to pass the time. It didn't include Chouji, who'd he'd just departed from at the bus stop, but it was certainly entertaining and it gave him something to do for three or so hours after school. Right now, he was trudging down a very congested street (he couldn't remember it being this crowded; he chalked it up to the Halloween store on the corner) to stand before a translucent plexiglass door. He entered without any hesitation, stepping off the sidewalk with ease, even with the rather large difference in height between the door frame and the concrete walkway.

Cigarette smoke and coffee grinds were the first smells that hit his nose, though the cigarette smoke greatly overpowered the coffee grinds, as well as just about every other scent that might have been in there. The windows for the shop had been tinted, so the light that fell into the room was dark, defeating the point of having the windows there at all, and the lamps that hung low from the ceiling were dimmed, casting buttermilk yellow light over the small sets of chairs and chess tables. A bar stood at the back of the room, a menu board hanging behind it with a list of food and drink. Small clumps of people were scattered around, though his favorite table had yet to be occupied.

The man behind the bar, Genma, looked up from his newspaper at him and smirked, a tooth pick perched between his lips. Shikamaru waved, hanging his bag on the back of his chair, followed by his jacket, and sat down. Deftly, he started to set up the pieces, not bothered with the mild chatter that had started on the other side of the room.

"Hey Shikamaru," greeted Genma, raising his hand in a limp wave. "Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

Shikamaru cast him a glare. It was dark and overcast outside, the wind blowing everything as fiercely as if it had a mind of its own.

"Oh yes. Absolutely _delightful_." Genma laughed, turning the page of his newspaper.

"I see you're in a good mood. Going to crush Asuma in five moves like last time?"

"If I feel up to it, maybe."

"What, now you're too lazy to play _chess_? Don't go sloth on me, Shikamaru."

"Do I look like a hairy tree-climber to you? Don't answer that," he growled, watching as Genma laughed humorously.

"Well, if you're not going to beat him in five moves," he said, wiping a stray tear as he chuckled again, "how _are _you going to beat him?"

"Who said he'd even beat me?" Genma turned to look as Asuma walked through the door, a cigarette burning in his hand, and set his briefcase beside the table Shikamaru sat at. He shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair, seating himself comfortably on the cushioned seat. "I could have a fool proof strategy up my sleeve."

"Give me a break, you haven't won once in the year and a half you've been coming here," said Genma, rolling his eyes, but smiling in a friendly manner.

"Thanks for the support there, Genma," grumbled Asuma, a puff of smoke exiting his mouth as he sent the younger man a reproachful look.

"Any time, any time."

Asuma rolled his eyes and turned to the chess board, realizing he was playing as white. "Well fine, be that way." Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. "Well, anyway, what's new with you, Shika? Fall asleep in any good classes lately?"

"Har har," he droned, moving his pawn forward. There was a pause. "Naruto and the others are going to a party next Saturday."

"Really, now?"

"Yeah."

"You going to dress up?" He gave him a look. Asuma chuckled.

"No."

"Then what're you going for?"

"Just 'cause."

Asuma fixed him with a look that said quite clearly he didn't believe him one bit. Shikamaru took out Asuma's pawn with his knight.

"Chouji talked you into it, didn't he?" Asuma chuckled at his frown. "I swear, you've got a weakness the size of Asia for that kid! If he asked you, I bet you'd actually study for a test!" He laughed again, advancing his bishop to rest beside the knight. The younger boy snorted, moving his rook from it's hiding space to take out Asuma's bishop. He frowned.

"Didn't see _that_ coming."

"No kidding."

"Do you have to be so sarcastic?"

"Do I have to keep winning?"

"Oh, ha ha, very funny." Shikamaru's knight dodged an attack from Asuma's pawn and took out the man's rook. Taking a drag of his cigarette, Asuma moved his pawn to kill Shikamaru's, only to get his piece killed by the bishop.

"So are you going in a costume?"

"_No_."

"Why not? You'd made a great zombie."

He stared at his teacher, blinking owlishly (what the hell? What's with everyone and thinking he'd make a good zombie?) with his hand hovering over the board in mid-move. Asuma stared back, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing out a cloud of ash-grey smoke.

"Naruto might as well be a disease with the way you all act after meeting him."

Asuma stared quizzically at him. With a sigh, he tapped his cigarette on the ash tray, the small grey ashes dropping off the end. He chuckled, his face friendly.

"You say the oddest things, Shika. What do you want for lunch?"

* * *

"Wash the dishes, would you? I've got to get going in ten minutes and I don't want any dirty dishes lying about," said a dark haired woman, her back to Shikamaru as she untied her apron and flipped her hair. He picked up his dish, as well as hers, and took it to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash away the food remains. Dark eyes glared back at him as Yoshino left the room, the click of her high-heeled shoes signaling her ascent up the flight of stairs. The phone started ringing, but he didn't bother getting it, knowing there was a phone in his parents' room.

"Get the phone, Shika (don't call me Shika, don't _ever_ call me Shika)!" yelled the woman from up stairs, her voice muffled and thick. He ignored her, his hands turning pink from the scathing hot water as he focused solely on washing the plastic plates. Above him, there was a crash and some muffled cursing. The thunder of footsteps the only warning he had to Yoshino's appearance.

"Dammit, Shika, I said get the phone!" she snapped, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. While in her room, she'd put her hair up into a loose bun, and pretty amethyst earrings dangled at her chin, matching her plum coloured party dress. She was going out with friends for a party and said she wouldn't be back til late the next morning. At least she didn't work early on Saturdays.

Without a word he turned off the faucet, drying his hands on a spare towel before brushing past her to answer the phone. It was situated on a small side table that had been put near the door for the disposing of keys on the way in. He plucked the handset from it's cradle and held it to his ear, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

"What?"

"_Jeeze, cranky much?"_

He paused, pulling the phone away from his ear to stare quizzically at it before replacing it near his face and speaking cooly (hesitantly, he was hesitant) into the receiver.

"Naruto?"

"_Yeah?"_

"How the hell did you get this number?"

Yoshino clopped down the hall way, purse swinging from the crook of her elbow. She cast a glare (don't look at me, don't look at me) at him from below thick black eyelashes and heavy mascara. He tried to glare back, but somehow it didn't seem as strong as hers.

"I'm going out now, so _stay here_, and believe you me, if I find _one single thing _out of place when I get back I swear—!" Her eyes locked on the phone in his hand and her voice cut off abruptly. She glared at him, perfectly manicured hands (no, one had a chip in it, a scratch) clutching her purse tightly. "You'll regret it," she finished stiffly before blowing out the door.

"_Uh, Shikamaru, who was that?"_

"Huh? Oh, no one. So how did you get this number?" He hoped his calmness didn't sound as forced to the blonde as it did to him.

"_Uh, well, see, I had this great idea and I wanted to make sure you all came and stuff but I didn't have your number, so I had to call all these people and— did you know Kiba has an older sister?"_

"Really now?" He leaned back against the wall.

"_Really! She sounded kind of cute, but then she started bitching at me, and I kinda got in a fight with her before Kiba cut in and then _he_ started shouting at me — But anyway— so I had to call everybody except I didn't have your number and finally Chouji told it to me —he said he would call you, but I insisted, so anyway— and then I called you!"_

". . ."

"_Shikamaru?"_

"You called me this late at night to tell me _that_?"

"_No! I was going to tell you that you're going to the Jinchuriki Mall with all of us tomorrow."_

"Am I, now?" He couldn't help raising an eyebrow, even if Naruto couldn't see it. "How troublesome."

"_Yeah, 'cause we have to do some stuff that's really REALLY important!" _He sighed.

"Who's going?"

"_Well, let's see, there's you, me, Gaara, Sasuke-bastard, Sai, Kiba, Shino, Hinata, Chouji, Haku, Zabu—!"_

"Alright, alright," he sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Did Naruto _always_ have to talk so loud? "I'll go. What time do I have to be there?"

"_Um . . . 10!"_

"I'll be there at 10:30."

"_Shikamaru! Don't—!"_

"Bye, Naruto."

There was a click as he set down the phone, grinning slightly as he imagined the scowling pout on the other boys face. So now he had to go to the mall tomorrow morning (at 10:30 no less!) to do some random task with Naruto and his troop. Well, it might not be so bad; his parent's wouldn't be home and Chouji was going, so there was a definite chance of _some_ enjoyment, if even just a bit. Maybe he could even pull a prank or something . . . .

Nah, too troublesome.

There was a much more pressing matter to attend to anyway: how the hell was he supposed to get to the mall? He couldn't very well drive there; he was only fifteen and even if he could, he had no car. The bus was always an option, but the last time he'd ridden the bus, he'd fallen asleep and woke up on the farthest edge of West Town. He shivered unconsciously. _That_ hadn't been pleasant.

So what was he supposed to do?

An idea struck him, like a bag of bricks falling on the top of his head, and he picked up the handset again, punching in a number quickly as he pressed the receiver against his ear. It rang once, twice, three times before someone picked up.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Asuma? I need a favor . . ."

* * *

"Alright, here's the mall," said Asuma, shifting the car to park. He unbuckled his seatbelt, muttering a "thanks" as he opened the car door. "Oh, hey, when am I supposed to pick you up?"

"Sai has a cell phone, I'll just call you." He paused, half way from getting completely out of the car. "We'll be done in no less than three hours, though." Asuma grinned.

"Alright. Well, have fun, be safe, and don't fall asleep anywhere!" He smiled kindly around his cigarette. "But seriously, have fun."

Shikamaru offered a small smile in return. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Asuma smiled wider, laughing heartily.

He closed the car door, stepping onto the curb as the 1988 blue Camry pulled away. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strode forward, his back hunched over slightly, past the fountain to the front entrance of the Jinchuriki Mall. Naruto hadn't said where to meet them, but since Zabuza would be there he figured they'd be easy to see (the guy was a freakin' skyscraper) and he was sure they wouldn't go _too_ far into the mall. Naruto might have ADD, but he had Gaara, Sai, Sasuke, Haku _and_ Shino with him, and between the five of them, he was sure they could keep the blonde from running off in some random direction.

The mall was no more crowded than normal, since the only holiday even remotely close by was Halloween and the one store he knew of that sold things for that kind of occasion was Hot Topic. While he knew many a people who shopped there (coughSasukecough), he didn't find it all that appealing. Maybe it was the whole "black" thing. . . . Eh, oh well.

A flock of giggling girls popped out of nowhere in front of him, their backs to him and squealing like mad. Just about all of them were clothed (if you could call it that) in mini skirts and tank tops, bangles of jewelry clipped around their wrists and necks. It was rather like walking behind a hoard of piglets from a fashion magazine. An image flashed in his head of an all too literal sense of the analogy, and he couldn't help but snort.

"Ohmygod," squealed one girl, clapping her hands together like an anime character, "I can't WAIT to see Sasuke!"

Shikamaru stopped short, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second as he stared in pure horror at the gaggle of girls before him.

Oh crap. _Fangirls_.

"I know!" cried Ino, swinging her ungodly long pony tail so as to inflict jealousy on the other girls. "I can't _wait_ to show him my necklace; isn't it just _precious_?"

"Back off Ino-pig! I saw him first, and besides,_ I'm_ the one who found out he's coming here today!" snapped Sakura, the pink haired girl bouncing about.

"Oh, shut up, Billboard-brow! Sasuke doesn't want a girl like you for his girlfriend! He'd much rather have _me_, the gorgeous, _perfect_, Ino Yamanaka."

Angered screeching ensued, all the girls resorting to a scratching, hitting, kicking mass, shouting at one another in a way that reminded him of the mice from Cinderella. He watched them for a moment, blinking lazily at them as a crowd started to form, whispering and camera flashes floating about as the fight continued. A random shoe flew out of the pile and hit him in the chest, snapping him out of his daze, and he made a hasty departure towards the food court.

Damn fangirls. They made every situation harder than it had to be. Like stairs. He _despised_ stairs.

The food court was packed with people and just as loud (no, louder) as the cafeteria, the skylights letting in the nice, bright light of the late morning sun. Saturday was a major shopping day, he knew, and the food court was one of the most visited places in the whole blasted thing (except the movie theater, but that was sort of a given). He looked around, shading his eyes so as to see better, trying to pick out a shock of blonde hair and an orange parka. Naruto was always an easy person to find, even in the most gruesome of crowds.

"Yo, Shikamaru!" A hand suddenly clapped on his shoulder and he whipped his head around to stare at a painted, smiling face. Kankuro was holding a tray of food in his hand and a Subway sandwich bag hung from the crook of his arm. He was rather surprised to see him dressed in black; in his mind, he'd always pictured him as being a tie-dye wearing person.

"Hey Kankuro," he said evenly, moving out from under the other boy's hand. "What's with the food?"

"Well, we got kinda hungry, and Chouji had already bought, like, three trays of food already, so we though 'hey, why not?' and pooled our money together to buy some brunch." He laughed happily, adjusting his hat with gloved hands. Kankuro squinted (almost like. . .) at him, tilting his head slightly in question. "What are you doing here so early? It's only, what, 10:10? Blondie said you wouldn't be here till 10:30."

"Asuma doesn't understand the concept of a speed limit."

Kankuro laughed, pulling Shikamaru along with him as he wove through the sea of tables. It didn't take long, and before he knew it, they were standing next to the group, all of them seated around three tables they'd shoved together.

"Yo, look who I found?" said Kankuro, setting down the tray and the sandwich. In a matter of seconds, the food had been ripped off the tray, and all that was left was a burrito, which Kankuro took for himself. Shikamaru seated himself next to Chouji ("Hey Chouji" ,"'lo Shik-omuru"), leaning back as he surveyed everyone.

Normally, he only saw Naruto's troop in their uniforms, save Naruto, Kiba and Shino, who wore odd parkas over their uniforms, and Kankuro was always seen in face paint with a kitty-ear hat on his head (which, from what Kankuro said, pissed the hell out of his math teacher Baki). Gaara was the only person who outright _refused_ to wear the uniform, choosing to wear "gothic" things, and 7 out of 10 days, Sasuke wouldn't conform to the dress code either, instead wearing "skater" clothes (or what ever it was called). This made today the first time he'd see most of them in their natural clothing.

Naruto was dressed fully in traffic-cone orange;_ seriously_. It was blinding just to look at him. This was contrasted greatly against Gaara's clothes on one side and Sasuke's on the other, both of whom wore all black; they kind of looked like body guards, actually. Sai was shrouded in black as well and Kiba had (shockingly) forwent his usual fur-lined parka, instead wearing a dark green army shirt and cargo pants. Shino looked as he usually did (sunglasses, high-collared jacket, jeans, Vans) and Hinata had wrapped herself in a thick parka and baggy pants; she kind of looked like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Lee was as fashion-blind as usual, Haku had put his hair up in a bun (a bun! Jeeze, he was turning into a girl!), and Zabuza wore faded jeans and a muscle shirt.

They actually _looked_ like teenagers.

How creepy.

"You're early, Shikamaru," said Chouji between bites, blinking at him curiously. He shrugged.

"Asuma drives fast."

Sasuke looked up, fixing Shikamaru with an obsidian stare. Something in his look seemed triumphant, as if he'd won some unheard argument.

"I thought you said Asuma wasn't your dad." It was said slyly, as if it were a trap.

"He isn't."

"Then why'd he give you a ride?"

"I asked."

Sasuke glared, though he didn't pry any farther. Mostly because Naruto had tried to steal his cheeseburger, but also because, unbeknownst to Shikamaru, Chouji was glaring something awful at the Uchiha. With reluctance, Sasuke had decided to play it safe and not provoke the normally sweet boy.

"Alright, so now that we're all here," started Kankuro, crumpling up his burrito wrapper, "what are we going to do?"

"Costume shopping!" shouted Naruto, spraying small bits of half-chewed ramen noodles everywhere. Gaara grabbed up a tray and shoved it in front of the boy's face, shielding them all from the slimy projectiles.

"I told you, I'm not dressing up," growled Gaara threateningly.

"Yeah, he's scary enough, he can just go as himself!"

"Shut up, Baka-inu."

"Well, I want to get a costume," said Haku. "I already have it all planned out, anyway."

"Cool. What're you going to be— "

"I'm not telling!" Haku insisted, crossing his arms defiantly.

"—Zabuza?" asked Kankuro, smirking at the blushing sophomore. Zabuza grunted.

"A samurai." Kankuro flashed a thumbs up.

"Retro. Sai, what about you?" The dazed looking boy swivelled his head around to look at the Sabaku.

"Hmm . . . . ." He turned to Naruto, and in a light voice asked, "What are you going to be, Naruto?"

"Uh, I'm gonna be, uh . . . something cool!"

"_That_ doesn't sound too promising."

"Shut up, Sasuke-bastard!"

"What are you, a wind-up toy? Say something different for once in your life, Dead Last."

"Dammit, Fan-boy—!" Gaara grabbed Naruto's arm, jerking him away from the smirking Uchiha, who hadn't moved an inch since his battle for the cheeseburger. The thrashing ball of orange was dragged to the other side of Gaara and shoved between him and Shino, where he resorted to growling irritably.

"Anyway," cut in Haku, waving his hand dismissively, "we still need to shop. Any objections?"

"I told you, I don't want a costume," snapped Gaara.

"Me neither."

"Same."

"Too troublesome."

"Jeeze, you people! Get in the holiday spirit, why don't you?" complained Haku, glaring at them all. His eyes were unusually dangerous looking, and Shikamaru couldn't help but think that maybe this wasn't the best time to mumble another "how troublesome". He was quite sure he'd get his head chewed off if he did.

"Look, I know a guy who works at Spencers that can get us a discount on Halloween stuff. Let's just go get some costumes and then we can all leave, okay?" said Kankuro, getting up from the table. As a group, they left the food court and headed down one of the massive hallways of the mall, cutting their way through the river of people as they chattered with one another.

Chouji walked along beside him, a paper box of nachos and cheese clutched in his pudgy hand. He was grinning ear to ear as he chewed (how did he keep the food in his mouth?), slurping up the cheese as if it were a drink. The large boy seemed rather contented, though he kept stepping on Shino's heels (the boy didn't seem to mind, but it was so hard to tell with those sunglasses on) as they stode through the mall. It took him a moment to notice squinty, dark eyes searching out his before the shorter boy spoke.

"I'm sorry I gave Naruto your phone number."

"Nah, it's okay." He smiled over at his friend. "Besides, he's a pushy person. Without being able to smother his face in a pillow or sick Gaara on him, there's really no way to win against him, right?"

Chouji smiled back at him, smothering his face with nachos. "Yep."

"Holy crap, look at that clown!" yelped Naruto, leaping back dramatically as he pointed off to the side.

In the display window of Spencers hung a variety of horrific, blood-covered, psychotic looking clowns, one of which clutched a pseudo chainsaw (drenched in blood, mind you). Jack-'o'-lanterns were scattered about, some with fangs and others with the odd organ spilling out of them, and he was sure he could see a disembodied head tucked in the corner, it's body hanging in the other window. A crowd of people was crammed into the small store, like a sardines in a can, and the group hesitated before joining the mass.

"Alright, pick out a costume and lets get the hell out of here!" shouted Kankuro, holding onto his hat so as not to loose it. Shikamaru and Chouji picked their way through it, not really interested in costumes, searching instead for one open space in the shop; luck was not on their side. Several times they ran into Kiba and Shino (they never seemed to stray very far from one another) with Hinata at their heels, and Sasuke fell into them once while trying to escape a clump of girls who had decided to run recklessly through the over-stuffed room (not necessarily the brightest crayons in the box, those girls).

Finally, _finally_, Haku found them, looking rather frazzled himself, and pulled them up to the cash register. Kankuro and the others were huddled around it, a lump of costumes stacked on the counter. The Sabaku was talking with the (was it a girl or a boy?) person behind the counter, who looked, quite honestly, clueless. When he was within hearing range, he managed to pick out what they were saying through the din of the other customers.

"—so that we can get out of here, ya know? Can you do that, Dei?" Kankuro said, leaning over the counter top. The blonde person (Dei), nodded eagerly, grinning widely.

"Sure man, yeah. I can give you discount, yeah. But you gotta do my math homework, yeah?"

"Sure, sure," said Kankuro quickly, "you got it. Thanks a million, Dei."

"No problem, Kanky," laughed Dei, ringing up their items. Kankuro turned to them as he and Chouji came up, noting their utter lack of anything Halloween-ish.

"What, no costumes?" asked Kankuro.

"Sorry 'Kanky', we decided to forgo it," he replied drily, watching Kankuro shift in embarrasment as he scowled at them.

"You should at _least_ get a mask."

"Masks are too troublesome."

"I know!" said Haku suddenly, snatching something off the wall. "Here, these will be your 'costumes'." He shoved them into Dei's hands before they could see what they were. "I'll even buy them for you, 'cause we can use them afterward in drama."

Even after they left Spencers, Haku wouldn't let him or Chouji see what he'd gotten for them, instead smirking deviously and saying "not till the party". Zabuza would then hover threateningly beside the boy, glaring down at them in a way that said plainly "touch him and die". It was all so very troublesome.

* * *

"Okay, today we'll have Tsuchi wait tables, Akimichi and Kinuta will handle the food, and Nara, you'll take the cash register. Any objections? Good, get to work."

Kabuto walked away, leaving Kin, Chouji, Dosu and him standing behind the counter. With a smile and a wave, Chouji left for the kitchen, Dosu scuttling after him, and Kin snatched up an apron and a notepad, taking a pen from the apron pocket, and went to wait on the present customers. He sighed, leaning against the counter top on his elbows, his chin resting on his fists. Through the window, he caught the barest trace of blue sky between two, unnecessarily tall, buildings. What a bad day to be trapped inside.

The weekend had been a total bore, the mystery of his "costume" losing its interest rather quickly, allowing him to be nice and relaxed while watching the clouds on Sunday, before he and Chouji had to go to work. It had been a busy day, too, with all those girls coming in and flirting with one of the boys sipping coffee in the corner. He honestly couldn't understand it; it wasn't as if the guy was a movie star or the President or a king or something. Well, that might not be true: he never did pay attention to that sort of thing, so the guy could've been any of that and he just wasn't aware of it.

The sheer possibility of him being clueless was totally, well, _possible_.

He was ready to fall asleep when the next customer came in through the door, bubbly chatter following after like a shadow. Ironically enough, it was the same guy from yesterday, though today he was with somebody. A surprisingly _familiar_ somebody.

Dei smiled brightly at him as he and the other man came in, trotting over to the cash register with his friend on his heels.

"Pineapple head!" he said happily, his one visible eye blinking childishly. It took a moment for him to realize that he was the 'Pineapple head'. "I didn't know you worked here, yeah! You were with Kanky the other day, weren't you, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah, I was. What're you doing here?"

"I'm here to chase away the loud pigeons, yeah!" he said proudly, flashing a thumbs up and laughing childishly. The red-head behind him rolled his eyes, tugging at the blonde's hand.

"Stop making a fool of yourself, Deidara."

"I'm not making a fool of myself! And don't be a spoil sport, Sasori," chided the blonde, ruffling the red-head's hair before flouncing off to the corner table. Sasori grumbled, following after the blonde with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, hey, Pineapple head! You go to Konoha High, right?" called Deidara, turning and waving his hand energetically back at him.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, guess what, yeah? One of our friends is transferring back in, yeah!" He nodded adamantly, his ponytail bouncing along with it. He looked like a bobble head. "Kisame's gonna be really happy about it too, yeah. They were best friends, you know? When he hears that—"

He was cut off as a cluster of girls came in, twittering like a bunch of birds. They surrounded Sasori and Deidara's table, trying to talk to the unaffected red-head while the over-active blonde waved his arms around frantically, shouting at them all. The words "yeah" and "pigeon" were constantly being repeated and he was sure that, should one of the girls actually _touch_ Sasori, the other boy would start a fight on the spot. He sighed. Why did all blondes have to attract so much attention? It was like they were walking sideshows, constantly drawing a crowd.

He sighed again and looked out the window. A puff of white filled the once blue sliver, and he was resolutely convinced that the clouds were mocking him.

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	5. Party: Act 1

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Sai x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, and rape. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you.

* * *

_

He could not believe what he was seeing. It was as if he'd walked into a nightmare, a horrible, ironic, _insane_ nightmare. It simply couldn't be possible, it just _couldn't_ be. The sheer idiocy of the whole thing was ludicrous and he knew that, should he ask, it all would have been planned so as to make his life far more troublesome than it needed to be.

"C'mon, it's just a little make-up. It'll look good on you!"

Haku held the costume make up to his face, his eyes watering with crocodile tears and his bottom lip quivering in a way that was to portray innocence. Shikamaru was not fooled.

"No."

"Please? Just for tonight, I swear."

"_No_."

"Oh, come on! You wouldn't pick out a costume, so this is what you get!"

He crossed his arms, glaring Haku strait in the eye.

"I am NOT wearing make-up."

"Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top?"

"I don't like cherries with sugar."

"Fine, cherries and _chocolate_. Will you wear it?"

"No." Haku threw his hands up in frustration.

"Ugh! You're impossible!"

It was Saturday, the day of the party, and they were standing on the curb across the street from Tenten's house, huddled around Sai's van as Haku tried (vainly) to get him to wear make-up. Chouji had caved fairly early on in the debate, allowing the sophomore to paint bright red swirls on his cheeks (why Haku considered this a costume, he had no idea). The others, of course, were already dressed in their costumes, and were hovering around so as to see what he'd be "dressed" as. Not that _they_ had anything to laugh about.

Kankuro had come as "a puppet master" or what ever the hell he'd called it. Basically, he was just dressed in an all black outfit (kitty-ear hat and painted face included) with an unreasonably large puppet strapped to his back (it looked kind of creepy, really). As promised, Zabuza was a samurai (complete with one kick-ass sword), Haku was, oddly enough, a geisha, Sai was an assassin, Kiba was a werewolf (surprise surprise), and Shino had come as a "moth" (all he'd really done was strap a pair of nylon wings to his back). Hinata was an angel (with _actual_ feathered wings), Naruto had tapped a cereal box to his shirt and held a large spatula, a pot resting on his head ("I'm a cereal killer!"), and Gaara had decided to come as himself, except with a (fake) decapitated head on a rope. Sasuke had donned a cape and fake teeth, calling himself a vampire and wacking Naruto on several occasions with his skull-grip cane. Although, he had to admit that the creepiest and strangest costume of all _had_ to be Lee's.

The normally bowl-headed teen had jumped into the van with his hair dyed bright red and spiked with gel, sloppy eye-liner drawn in around his eyes, and his green jumpsuit and orange legwarmers replaced with a black, gothic outfit found at any Hot Topic, complete with chains, hooks, belts, and, strangely, a letter opener. Rock Lee had come as Gaara Sabaku.

Gaara had not been pleased.

A good chunk of the time dedicated to Haku trying to convince Shikamaru to wear make-up had also been spent with Gaara chasing Lee around, wacking at the poor lookalike with his decapitated head. It would have been funny if Lee hadn't kept tripping over his own pants; or rather, it would have been _funnier_ if Lee hadn't kept tripping over his own pants. Kiba and Naruto couldn't stop laughing, and whenever the chase started to dwindle, they would do some inane tactic to spur in on again. It was rather like watching a clip on America's Funniest Home Videos.

"Please, Shikamaru? Just for tonight, would you wear it? Look, Chouji's wearing it!" tried Haku, pulling Chouji over so as to stand by his side. The swirly-cheeked boy was munching away at a bag of candy corn, not at all upset with being used as an example. Mostly because he didn't much _care_ about the swirls, but nevertheless, he wasn't getting all riled up over it. If only so much could be said for Gaara.

"—GODDAMMIT LEE I GONNA GUT YOU, SPEAR YOU, STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR INTESTINES AND HANG YOU UP BY THEM ON A FLAG POLE, CUT OPEN YOUR LIVER, SPLIT OPEN YOUR BRAIN, FEED YOU YOUR OWN LUNG—!"

"IT IS NOT YOUTHFUL TO KILL ONE'S PEER, GAARA! PLEASE, BE YOUTHFUL AND STOP CHASING ME!"

"YOU WANT YOUTHFUL? I'LL GIVE YOU YOUTHFUL— I'LL CHASE YOU SO GODDAMN FAR YOU'LL PUKE OUT YOUR OWN FUCKING STOMACH!"

"THAT IS MOST DEFINITELY _NOT_ YOUTHFUL!"

"YOU THINK I GIVE A GODDAMN FUCK WHAT THE HELL YOU THINK IS YOUTHFUL? GODDAMMIT LEE I'M GONNA **_KILL_** YOU!"

"Man, poor Lee, huh?" said Kankuro, shaking his head. "He really shouldn't poke fun at Gaara like that."

"Aren't you going to do something about it?" asked Sasuke, rolling his eyes as Lee tripped again. "I mean, he _is_ your brother."

"I'll wait till he drops that head and then I'll try to cool him off."

"But he's got a grip like a bear trap, doesn't he?" asked Sai, absently fiddling with his pseudo blade. He almost sounded amused, but then, it was hard to tell with Sai. Even his smiles seemed fake.

"Oh. Right." Kankuro scratched his head, peering out into the darkness at Gaara and Lee running around, the former swinging the decapitated head. "This could take a while."

"Thanks for stating the obvious there, Kanky," said Haku drily, rolling his eyes. Ever since last Saturday, they had all taken to calling the junior by the nickname Deidara had used. Kankuro hadn't been too pleased by that development, but compared to Gaara's "not too pleased" attitude, Kankuro had been down right cheerful.

"Why don't you just throw something at them? You know, distract them," suggested Naruto giddily.

"What, so we can have the psycho red-head trying to kill _us_ instead? No thanks." Naruto sent Kiba a glare, who responded easily by sticking his tongue out and whacking the "cereal killer" on the head.

"Let's just go to the party," grumbled Shino. Kiba and Naruto leapt to their feet, the blonde almost knocking his pot against Shikamaru's jaw. As he glared at the pot-wearing idiot, Haku took the chance to draw on his face with one of the green make-up crayons.

"HOLY—! Haku! Don't draw on me!" he snapped, shoving the giggling boy away. He was very much tempted to wipe it away immediately, but he stopped short. If he wiped away the make up, there would be residue and then he'd look even dumber than before. Damn Haku.

"Damn you, Haku," he growled. The brunette smiled sweetly at him, tossing the make-up kit through the front passenger window. Sai frowned slightly, opening the door to roll closed the window. No point in tempting thieves, right?

"Alright, well now that _that's_ delt with, let's par-_tey!_" sighed Kankuro, adjusting his hat and grabbing up his 'puppet'.

"Hell yeah!"

"YES!"

"_Finally!_"

Kiba and Naruto snatched up their wolf gloves and spatula respectively, scampering off after Sai (who'd taken Hinata by the arm and led her along like a gentleman, Kiba seething all the while), with Shino trailing behind, his wings flapping aimlessly. Sasuke sighed and grabbed up a stray empty soda can, tossing it in his hand for a moment before chucking it at Gaara. The offended whirled around, halting the swing of his head-on-a-rope.

"What the **_FUCK_** Sasuke?" roared Gaara, eyes glinting far too dangerously to not take him seriously. Sasuke glared back, though Chouji and Haku ducked around Zabuza (Shikamaru had to be pulled, though; "He's not _actually_ going to do anything, Chouji", "_We_ don't know that!"), who simply grunted at them and crossed his arms. Gaara stomped forward, dragging his head-on-a-rope along with him, heading strait for a smirking Sasuke.

"You can stop running now, Lee," called Sasuke. The lookalike skidded to a stop, panting heavily as he doubled over. He flashed a thumbs up at the vampire, which Sasuke ignored, and then came back to life and bounded after Sai and the others.

"Sasuke, I'm going to kill you," seethed Gaara, swinging his head around like a yo-yo doing "around the world". Sasuke didn't bother moving, instead sneering in that "holier than thou" way of his that served as a sort of trade mark. Shikamaru rolled his eyes.

"This could get messy," he said, turning on his heel to circle around the van and walk sedately across the street. Chouji followed after, munching on his candy, his scarf flapping aimlessly in the wind. He wasn't quite sure why he'd need the scarf, since it wasn't that cold out, but Chouji hadn't seemed to mind it, and it didn't really bother him, so he let it go.

The whole house was lit up, the windows spilling artificial light onto the lawn, which was decorated with fake ghosts and goblins, a row of Jack-'o'-lanterns grinning deviously at them from the front porch. There were streamers taped to the edges of the house roof and a straw-stuffed "corpse" hung by the front door. The driveway was predictably empty, proving that Tenten's parents weren't home at all and ensuring a night of rule-braking and house-trashing.

"Looks like fun," mumbled Chouji thickly, blinking at the shadows on the windows of people dancing and mingling.

"Looks like a mad house."

Chouji laughed, popping a few more candy corns into his mouth. He pulled open the front door and stepped into the living room of a normally lush house, with designer furniture and art work, state-of-the-art electronics blasting out music that would've made even a deaf person cringe. It wasn't even that good of music, either, and it was pretty much drowned out by the thud of bodies moving over carpeted and wooden flooring. Through a door way strait ahead, he could see someone dancing on the dinning room table, a crowd of people standing around and cheering. Shikamaru half hoped they'd bang their head on the chandelier.

"Where'd everyone else go?" asked Chouji loudly, trying to make himself heard over the noise.

"Let's try the kitchen." He started to make his way to a swinging door across the living room, where he assumed a kitchen of some sort would present itself. No one aided in their quest, of course, and several times he found himself pushed off balance and thrown into to someone else. Chouji was a rock in the sea, though, and managed to stay fairly upright through the whole thing. Lucky Chouji.

Entering the kitchen, they found a group of pot smokers hanging around the kitchen counters and island in a haze of thick, putrid smoke. He coughed and then grabbed Chouji's scarf to guide him to the set of stairs leading to the basement. There was no way he was going to hang around drugs, not without being asked first, at least. Not that he'd want to; he could barely stand Asuma's smoking, and all _that_ did was cause cancer while this stuff caused _brain damage_. Of course, those guys probably lost their brains aeons ago.

Chouji closed the stairwell door behind them, crumpling up his candy corn bag as Shikamaru continued to lead him along by his scarf. At first it was quiet, but as they reached the basement it became obvious that they weren't the only ones who'd wanted to get away from the tightly packed living room and smoky kitchen.

The room wasn't as richly decorated as the upper story had been, but it had all the essentials: a couch and chairs, a TV and DVD player, two stacks of DVDs, a pinball machine and a foozeball table. A table across the room held several different bowls and plates of food, as well as a few bottles of soda and plastic cups. A dart board hung off to the side, a forest of pin holes surrounding it, proving it'd been played very often by someone with horrible aim, and there was a stereo fitted into the wall near the TV, though it remained silent.

As nice as it was, he couldn't honestly say he wanted to stay down there, but since his options were pretty thin, he decided it would be okay. Besides, there was food, an empty chair (he was lazy, there was no way around it) and there were even a few people he knew. Albeit, not very well, but still, there was Naruto at least.

"Pineapple head! Nacho boy! Nice ta see ya, yeah!" called Deidara from the couch, waving his hand frantically as if they couldn't see him from just a dozen feet away. Beside him sat Sasori, a game controller in his hand (a video game of some sort was playing on the TV screen, a fighting game as far as he could tell), and at the foozeball table in the corner were four other people, two of which were Naruto and Sai, playing fiercely (Naruto was the only one getting worked up; Sai didn't look as if he cared) against two other people, both of whom looked to be seniors, though he couldn't be sure.

One of them was absolutely gigantic in height, his spiked blue hair only inches from the ceiling, and he had to bend down to turn the poles of the foozeball table. This wasn't the oddest thing about him, though: the fact that he was _entirely blue _was what defined him as being "odd". His eyes, too, were odd in that they were unnaturally pale (as if _that_ skin color was natural) and stood out on his face like a beacon. A fake plastic fin on the back of his shirt and gills painted on his cheeks told him that this blue person was supposed to be a shark.

The other guy didn't look very strange, really. He had his light brown hair combed and gelled away from his face, which was painted black and white to look like a skull and his clothes were dyed so that they resembled a skeleton. A very typical Halloween costume, actually. If it weren't for the costume, he might have considered this one to be an adult, but that might have been pushing it.

Sighing, he took the empty chair, letting go of Chouji's scarf so he could seat himself next to the hyperactive blonde. Deidara smiled brightly at Chouji, now candy-less, and waved his game controller in front of the other boy's face.

"Do you want to play? Sasori's too mean to me, yeah." Sasori snorted, his fingers pushing madly at the buttons as he beat Deidara's guy to a pulp. Chouji squinted his eyes before taking the controller, testing out the buttons randomly. The blonde turned to Shikamaru, grinning toothily.

"You didn't dress up, yeah," commented Deidara. "And scribbles on your face don't count, yeah." He could feel his mouth curl into a frown.

"Neither did you."

"Yeah, but I came with Sasori, so I can get away with it!" laughed the blonde, his ponytail bobbing like a bobble head again.

He just eyed him oddly, wondering if this Deidara was going to be as illogical as Naruto. If he was, it might be a good time to tune him out; listening to random babbling would kill his brain faster than marijuana. This wasn't a proven fact, but he was willing to bet that it was true.

"Hey, I don't even know your name, yeah," said Deidara suddenly, tilting his head to the side. He sort of looked like a bird. Or a dog. Nah, more like a bird.

"I'm Shikamaru. He's Chouji," he said, gesturing to his friend. Said boy was focusing solely on the game on the screen, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. Sasori's eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked irked. Chouji seemed to be winning.

Deidara pouted. "Pineapple head sounds so much better, yeah." Then he smiled, craning his head to look back at the foozeball table players. "Like your name, right Whiskers?"

The reaction was immediate. Naruto swung his head around, glaring daggers at the now laughing Deidara as he roared at the top of his lungs.

"MY NAME IS **NOT** WHISKERS, YA BLONDE BIMBO!"

"Whatever, Whiskers, yeah!"

"WHY I OUGHTTA—!" Sai nudged the enraged freshman in the arm, speaking levelly.

"The game, Naruto, we're playing a game."

"Oh, right!"

Naruto turned back around to table, playing with much more gusto than he had before, twisting the poles more than they needed to be in his exuberance. Deidara laughed, leaning back on the couch with a grin. He seemed far more pleased with himself than he should've been, especially since it was such a childish way to win a fight. Adults weren't the only immature people, it seemed. But then, blondes tended to be that way. Or at least, all the blondes _he_ knew tended to be that way. Chouji, of course, was a very tolerable person, but he'd never seen his friend as a being a blonde. He'd always seemed too sedated for it. Sasori let out an angered sigh, dumping the controller in the blonde's lap and throwing his hands up in aggravation.

"Hey, hey, what happened, yeah?"

"I lost."

"To _him_, yeah?"

"Obviously."

"Seriously, yeah?"

"Yes."

Deidara turned to Chouji, surprise on his face before squealing like a girl and hugging him. Chouji looked startled out of his mind, and he couldn't help but laugh as his friend tried to free himself from the ecstatic blonde's grip.

"Yay! Now I can get some ICE CREAM!"

"No, you don't," corrected Sasori. "I said I'd buy you ice cream if _you_ beat me. Having someone else do it doesn't count."

Deidara pouted, releasing Chouji (who gasped for breath immediately afterward) to cross his arms moodily and hunker down in the cushions of the couch. Sasori raised one eyebrow, not looking at all worried about Deidara's sudden mood change. Chouji got up quickly, loosening his scarf a little and casting the blonde a small scowl.

"I'm getting a snack, want anything?" asked Chouji, blinking down at him.

He shrugged indifferently. "Sure."

His friend padded away, reaching the food table just as Sasori spoke, his voice sounding almost amused. He was reminded of Sai, though without any of those fake smiles. Sasori would have to actually _smile_ before he could claim them to be fake, anyway.

"You know pouting doesn't work on me."

"I'm not pouting, yeah!" Yeah right. He could tell the red-head didn't agree with Deidara, either.

"Then what are you doing?" Deidara sniffed, raising his chin defiantly.

"Sulking."

Shikamaru snorted, letting his feet rest on the coffee table. Deidara swung his head around to glare at him, his face scrunching up like a pug's would. Sasori blinked, though his face remained impassive.

"You don't think I'm sulking, yeah?" snapped Deidara, his one visible blue eye narrowed. He frowned, staring back at the older boy with as much boredom as he could paint on his face, pun not intended.

"No."

"Well, I am, yeah."

"No, you're pouting."

"Sulking, yeah!"

"Pouting."

"Sulking!"

"Fine, sulking," he conceded, rolling his eyes. "Jeeze, you're acting like a woman."

Deidara let out an indignant squeak, his hands flying to his mouth in dramatized horror; he kind of looked like an anime character in that position. Sasori rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV, taking the controller from Deidara's lap and continuing his game. Chouji took this moment to return, carrying two plates of food in one hand (how did he do that?) and two cups of soda in the other, a bag of chips tucked under one arm. He handed one of the cups to Shikamaru, placing the other one on the coffee table and settled down on the couch with his "snack".

Chouji blinked, looking between Shikamaru and Deidara. "What's going on?"

"He called me a woman!" yelped Deidara, pointing an accusatory finger at Shikamaru, who only rolled his eyes. He took a sip of his soda before setting it on the coffee table as well, and leaned back in his seat. Sighing, he propped his head up in his fist, his elbow resting on the chair arm, and eyed the steaming blonde with very little interest. He reached over and took some of Chouji's chips, half listening as the larger boy spoke to Deidara.

"You mean you're not?"

There was a moment of absolute silence before all hell broke loose.

"WHAT, YEAH?!"

Deidara looked horrified beyond belief, his mouth gapping open so wide it should have hit the floor. The blonde had jumped up so that now he was towering (if it could be called that, seeing as he was only a few inches taller than Sasuke) over Chouji; said boy was blinking rapidly, his hand going absently to his ear so as to relive the ringing that occurred as a result of Deidara's outburst. He couldn't blame him, since even his ears were chiming with sound waves. Sasori had his hand over his mouth, his cheeks going red with the desire to hold in his amusement, and laugher started to bubble in his chest too, as Deidara continued to gape wide-eyed down at Chouji.

"Ha ha! Told you," laughed the blue senior at the foozeball table, his voice scratchy but deep. "You look too much like a girl, Dei."

"STAY OUTTA THIS, KISAME, YEAH!" yelled Deidara, his face going beet red. Ah, so that was Kisame. Well, his name, "demon shark," fit with his costume perfectly. How ironic that it would. Maybe he actually _knew_ what his name meant, unlike most of the people he knew. Especially Ino. Who names their daughter "a wild boar" anyway? Although, now that he thought of it, didn't Sakura call her "Ino-pig"? Maybe there weren't _that_ many ignorant people out there . . . . Yeah right.

"Yeah, Kisame, let Birdie wallow in his self-dug pit of depression by himself," smirked the other senior, his tone far to joking to be taken seriously.

"Ha ha! Wallow in depression, Birdie!"

"I'M NOT GONNA WALLOW IN ANYTHING, YEAH!"

"Huh, he didn't even call me 'Sharky'," said Kisame absently, spinning one of the poles forcefully.

"OI! I SAID SHUT UP, YEAH!" he roared. Deidara didn't look to happy at being ignored. It was rather funny, actually. In a Lee-tripping-over-his-pants-while-Gaara-chased-him-with-a-decapitated-head sort of way.

"The heavens smile down on you, Sharky," replied the skeleton smoothly. "God cherishes you."

"Well technically," started Sai, not even bothering to look up as he addressed the simmering blonde, "you said 'stay out of this' not 'shut up'."

"It's the same damn thing, yeah!" snapped Deidara. Kisame and the skeleton continued their conversation as if there was no interruption.

"You and your religious talk. I swear, how does Kakuzu put up with you?"

"The same way you do, Sharky."

"Don't call me Sharky, Grim."

"Don't call me Grim, Sharky."

"Hey, look at that, an impasse."

"Do you mean a wall?" asked the skeleton curiously. Kisame spared him a dry look, spinning the pole with finality, followed by the clunk of the ball falling into Naruto's and Sai's goal.

"No."

"Oh." The skeleton retrieved the ball and dropped it on the court absently, as if he weren't paying attention. "Then wait, what's and impasse? Is it like an intersection, or a crossroads?"

"Impasse: a noun, meaning inescapable predicament," came Sasori's voice suddenly, sounding eerily as if he were reading from a book.

"Thank you, Mr. Dictionary, for that lovely explanation," drawled Kisame, his tone sarcastic. Sasori didn't looked offended (not that he expressed any sort of facial emotion at all, but still) as he replied tonelessly.

"At least I know what it means, unlike Hidan." The skeleton (Hidan) scowled and shook his fist in the red-head's direction, his face skewed oddly from the face paint and his expression. He did sort of resemble a Grim Reaper, but with no hood or scythe to speak of, he didn't look nearly as frightening as he could've.

"Don't go dissin' on me, man," warned Hidan heatedly. There was a clunk, and Naruto leapt into the air with a shout, a wide grin spread across his face. Sai smiled in that artificial way of his, not at all as excited as Naruto.

"Hell yeah! Point for Team Uzumaki!" he crowed, laughing loudly. Kisame growled, sending a glare at Hidan as the other stared blankly at the court.

"See what your distraction caused? Pay attention for once in your life, Hidan!"

"This wasn't _my_ fault! It's all yours! That's your side of the court, not mine!" retorted Hidan.

"Take that! Now we're up a point, so you'd better watch out!" laughed Naruto, flashing a toothy grin and a thumbs up.

"Watch out?" snorted Hidan. "You're ten points behind and you're telling _us_ to 'watch out'? Who _are_ you? Deidara?"

"Hey!"

"Cool it, Birdie, it was a joke," called Kisame automatically. Deidara sunk down in his seat, glaring moodily at the wall. Sasori remained collectively unresponsive to the rooms occupants, his focus fixed to his game (his character was beating the shit out of the other one; maybe he wasn't so calm after all). Chouji continued munching on his food, not bothering to turn his head to view the conversation going on at the foozeball table.

"Having fun?"

Chouji looked over at him in surprise, swallowing quickly before answering.

"They're fun to listen to."

"Like a sitcom?"

"But with out the laugh track."

He smiled, laughing a little as he took a few more chips from Chouji's plates. The bickering in the corner continued, broken up with the occasional comment from Deidara and even once from Sasori. It was rather peaceful, actually, like sitting in a class room, but with no rules or homework.

Peace never lasted long, of course, so he wasn't very surprised when he heard the bang of someone blazing down the stairs only moments later.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod—!"

"Uh-uh, K-kiba, whu-what's wr-wr-wrong?"

"Ohmygodohmy—!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Kiba."

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod—!"

"Is he okay?"

"Ohmygodohmygodoh—!"

"He will be."

From the stairwell stumbled a white-faced Kiba, his mouth slurring out a continuous "oh my god", while the rest of his body tried to keep itself from falling over. Behind him came Shino (wingless) who grabbed the werewolf's arm to steady him, his brow furrowed in assumed annoyance (he couldn't exactly tell, with his high collar and sunglasses), followed by Hinata, who kept worrying her lip and fiddling with her fingers uncertainly, and two other people he didn't recognize.

The first one to appear was a boy, probably a sophomore or junior, draped in a black cloak, an orange, spiral mask (the spiral centered around his right eye; there was no other eye hole) held onto his face by a dark band that wrapped all the way around his head. His hair looked mused, as if he'd been sleeping recently, and his head was tilted to the side.

However, the other party-goer was far more spectacular to look at than anything Shikamaru had ever seen.

Like the orange-masked boy, this one was cloaked in black, but instead of just a head protruding from the neck hole, there were these jaw-like things as well (it sort of looked like the jaws of a Venus fly trap, actually . . .). He seemed far too old to be in high school anymore (maybe college), but Shikamaru couldn't be sure. His hair was a pale sort of tan and the right half of his face was painted black, the left side painted white, with eyes that were this very pale hazel, yellow almost. He stalked into the room, and the moment he entered it, it was as if a black cloud had followed with him, hanging over all of them like a broken mirror or spilt salt. To his left, he saw Chouji shiver, and he knew that something was very, very wrong.

"Hey, what's wrong Kiba?" asked Naruto, who'd turned around to face the five of them. From the calm attitude he displayed, Shikamaru guessed that Naruto didn't feel the chill that came from the looming flytrap; maybe it had just been him and Chouji who'd felt it. No, that wasn't it, because Sai had gone oddly rigid and was eyeing the new-comers with an air of uncharacteristic hostility. This wasn't imagined; it was just selectively felt.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod—!" babbled Kiba, as if he hadn't heard Naruto at all.

"Talk sense, dog-breath!" growled Naruto impatiently.

"He's having a mental breakdown," supplied Shino, dumping Kiba on the couch next to Sasori. Said boy didn't look too pleased, shoving both Kiba and Deidara away so as to have more room.

"Hey don't push me, yeah!" snapped Deidara, swatting Sasori on the shoulder. Sasori gave no indication that he'd felt it. Chouji grunted slightly at having been upset from his position, though he didn't voice it, swallowing his food before speaking in a polite tone.

"What happened?"

"The Hotta twins happened," replied Shino, as if this explained everything. Hinata stuttered to life, twisting her fingers nervously. It took a moment for her to actually get her sentence out, but luckily no one tried to interrupt or spur her on, since that would've just prolonged an explanation.

"Uh th-the H-Hotta t-tw-twins w-were ju-ju-just be-being fuh-fun-ny," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing as she ducked her head. Kiba gave a moan, sounding like a kicked puppy.

"I can't believe they did that!" he wailed. Shino cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Get a hold of yourself, Kiba."

"But– but– !"

"Seriously, what happened?" spoke up Hidan, not looking particularly happy.

"Well—" stared the orange-masked boy.

"Not you, shorty. I was talkin' to Zetsu." The boy seemed to stiffen, but he didn't fight Hidan on it, instead stepping away to allow full attention on the duel colored man behind him. Zetsu blinked owlishly, his face blank as a board as he stared dazedly at them.

"Ah . . . well, I think the little blue heads . . . what now? . . . oh, the Hotta's, they were drinking . . . or something, and Miss Hinata got kissed by them."

"Aha-ha-ha-ha! Your girl got kissed by TWO other guys before you even asked her out!" laughed Naruto none too nicely. Kiba was up in a second, snarling fiercely as he charged the gleeful blonde. They collided, becoming nothing but a snarling, hitting, kicking mass. He was reminded of the girl fight in the mall a week ago, and he imagined their faces if he told them they were acting like fan girls. What a funny thought.

"Take it back, you damn bastard!"

"Screw you!"

"Fucktard!"

"Shitwad!"

"Brain-dead!"

"Lap-dog!"

"Butt-licker!"

"Butt-_sniffer_!"

"Why you little—!"

Shino grabbed the back of Kiba's sweater and yanked him back. Sai wrapped his arms around Naruto's waist and held him away from the still flailing Kiba, both teens continuing to spew insults at each other. Kisame laughed and ruffled Naruto's hair.

"Jeeze, you're little firecrackers!" he said to Kiba and Naruto both. "Better not let you near the matches, eh?"

"Let me at 'em Sai! I can take 'em!" growled Naruto, fighting Sai's hold. Sai just held tighter.

"Like hell you can!" Kiba roared back, thrashing about. Shino didn't look as if he was even trying to hold Kiba down. Things didn't look good for either of the fighting freshmen.

"Calm down," ordered Shino, jerking Kiba back to stand beside him. "You're being stupid."

"Hear that blondie?" yelled Kiba, a cocky grin on his face, "You're being stupid!"

"Yo blackie, I'm a pot!" retorted Naruto with a scowl.

Shikamaru couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lungs. "That's not how it goes, Naruto. You're supposed to say: Hey kettle? I'm the pot— you're black. Really, you should pay more attention when Gaara's insulting you."

"Oh, shut it, Shikamaru," grumbled Naruto.

"There was something else," mumbled Zetsu absently, his head tilting to the side, eyes blinking lazily at the floor. Some how, he was able to draw everyone's attention to him without raising his voice. "Ah, what was it? . . . . that? No, it was something else . . . . . oh right." He looked up at them, blinking slowly. "The boy with the tattoo . . . Sabaku?. . . I think he's going to do something rather stupid."

Naruto snapped out of his anger almost immediately, his face becoming a mixture of curiosity and worry. "What? You mean Gaara? What's he gonna do?" His voice was anxious, and for a second —no, half a second— he swore Sai looked jealous.

"How do you know?" asked Kisame sensibly. "What makes you think he's gonna do something stupid?"

"Hmm well," said Zetsu thoughtfully, "he seemed . . . no it was more he felt mad . . . angered . . . yes, and he was holding . . . holding. . . ."

"Mister Gaara is going to stab someone," cut in the orange-masked boy.

There was a moment where no one moved, they simply stared at the oddly dressed boy in utter shock. And then it was like the damn splitting or the clouds breaking, pouring out a horde of emotions and actions in a thunderous tycoon. And the one thing that was shared between their thoughts, almost in sync, was:

_Gaara's going to kill someone.

* * *

_

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	6. Party: Act 2

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Sai x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, and rape. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you.

* * *

_

It was a mad dash to the stairs, all of them fighting and clawing their way to the entrance and rushing up the steep incline. There was shouting and hitting, the urge to leave the comfortable basement suddenly becoming the primary thought pattern between the lot of them, followed only by the need to stop Gaara from doing whatever it was he was about to do and _fast_. Time was of the essence, and there was no moment like the present to be more aware of that fact. Throwing the door open, they shot into the kitchen, causing a loud bang as the door rebounded off the wall (leaving a large doorknob-sized hole in the plaster), coupled by the pounding of their feet on the linoleum floor, and poured into the room in a jumbled frenzy. Without a doubt, they scared the daylights out of the pot smokers, but since none of them were of their concern, they were ignored for the swinging door that would lead them to the living room, the supposed battle ground of Gaara Sabaku.

If it was possible, the living room was far more quiet than the basement had been, the pulse of music unnoticed within the tension that filled the room, holding everything in place. Several of the partygoers looked scared, some looked confused, and others were cheering, tripping over their own feet as they laughed and drowned themselves in beer. A multicolored disco light had been set up and random blotches of light flew around the room, dotting them all in an odd assembly of colors. A few black and orange streamers had been torn, left to hang forlornly on the wall and banister, and some people from the upper level had come down and were lined up on the staircase, staring down at the scene unfolding in the room below.

In the center of the crowd, a large ring (almost like a Colosseum) had been cleared, leaving two people to circle each other like fighting dogs. One was Gaara, as Zetsu had said, and the other was Zaku, dressed as some sort of Egyptian getup (it looked poorly made, much like Naruto's costume). Each of them had a weapon, Gaara clutching Lee's letter opener and Zaku holding a skewer (like the kind used for kabobs). Their group shoved their way to the edge of the ring, bunching up to look over shoulders and watch the fight, varying degrees of worry and curiosity on their faces. Shikamaru managed to get to the front with Naruto, Chouji squeezed in next to him, with Sai and Sasori behind them. Gaara and Zaku continued to circle one another, the black-haired boy lashing out with his skewer at random moments, only to miss and move to doge a blur of attacks from the red-head.

Looking on, it was easy to tell who had the upper hand. He could see from the way Zaku's hand had curled around the skewer until his knuckles turned white, his grip tight and shaking as he tried to attack, while Gaara's grip was loose yet controlled, his piercing eyes never leaving Zaku's form. The way Gaara's face was schooled and impassive while Zaku's was twisted with furry, his whole body shaking with unsuppressed rage, was also a giveaway, and the haphazard way Zaku tried to attack, followed by Gaara's easy dodges, only confirmed it. It wasn't at all hard to tell who was winning.

Naruto, of course, was never one to catch on fast.

"Oi Gaara! What are you _doing?_ Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" screamed the blonde from the sidelines, his face flushed and scared. Gaara pretended not to hear him, his eyes staying fixed on the seething freshman. Shikamaru rolled his eyes.

"Calm down Naruto, he's not going to loose," he grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets with a sigh. The red-head shot him a look, his pale green eyes wide and calculative.

Though he'd only just met the boy, Shikamaru knew, from the stories he'd heard from Naruto and his troop, that Gaara was no rookie when if came to fighting. The bloody-haired teen may not have the best grade in P.E., but he wasn't a cowered and he wasn't stupid. He knew how to wield a weapon, how to conduct himself in a fight, and how to use psychology against his opponent. Battles could be won even before the first punch was thrown, and if anyone was ever a master at that tactic, it was the youngest Sabaku. Gaara wouldn't loose; but there inlay the problem.

Gaara would win.

And Zaku would die.

Shikamaru rubbed his temples, glaring out at the boys still circling one another. This was _so_ not good.

"Come on, freak," snarled Zaku, flashing a cocky grin, "show me what'chu got!"

"Bite me, bitch," growled Gaara, his expression never changing (though his eye did twitch. How strange of him to slip up like that).

Zaku hissed, lashing out at the red-head only to get his forearm stabbed as Gaara retaliated. Yelping in pain, he stumbled back, clutching the injured appendage in his free hand. Angry, hateful eyes locked onto his imperturbable opponent, his whole body tense and aggravated.

"Fuck you, tard-head!" Zaku snapped. Gaara kept his gaze hard and steady, his whole figure cool and collected as he shifted into a stance Shikamaru recognized from ninja and samurai movies. Beside him, he felt Naruto stiffen up, and across the ring he finally noticed Kankuro, Lee, Haku, and Zabuza, all of whom (save Zabuza, who simply looked "interested" and Lee who was blinking in a rather clueless manner) looked as pale as sheets (even Kankuro with his make-up on). Something bad was going to happen.

"Hm, what should I do," murmured Gaara, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. His eyes were wide and excited, glassy with delusion. "Should I cut open his liver or his stomach first? Or should I remove his intestines and strangle him with them? Decisions, decisions . . . ."

Zaku's face turned pale and a glimmer of fear sprouted in his eyes. There was a moment were Shikamaru was sure he'd run, but the black-haired teen held his ground, eyeing Gaara with new caution.

"Wh-what the fuck are you spoutin', freak?" sneered Zaku shakily. "Ya god damn psycho! You should be in the fucking nut house! Get the hell outta here!"

Chouji's hand gripped his forearm, the shorter boy shuffling closer to him nervously. His face was pale and frightened, mirrored by the expressions on Kankuro and Haku's faces, both of whom looked as if terrorists had barged in with loaded guns and had started shooting everyone in sight. Beside him, he heard Naruto gasp under his breath. "Oh, _fuck_ no! Don't say _that_ . . . !"

"Oh really?" grinned Gaara, his eyes alight with a very disturbing emotion; Shikamaru felt the distinct urge to run. "Funny you should mention that . . . ."

There was a flash of movement and before he could understand what had happened, Gaara had Zaku pinned to the ground, the letter opener held to the boy's neck and the skewer left discarded several feet away. The blade of the letter opener was pressed forcefully against the boy's neck, Zaku's fingers clawing at Gaara's wrists in a vain attempt to free himself. While he knew the edge was too dull to make a cut (since it was, in fact, a letter opener and not a throat opener), it made the esophagus cave in under it, restricting Zaku's breathing. A strangled gasp emitted from the boy, followed by wicked chuckling from Gaara.

"L-let g-go of m-me!" gasped Zaku, his voice barely heard over the sudden din of voices, scared and excited alike, that had broken out in the room. The smile on Gaara's face grew, becoming more disturbing by the moment as he simple pressed harder.

"No, I don't think I will," replied the freshman nonchalantly. The room became utterly quiet in less than a second, all eyes trained on the small, green-eyed teen. "You see, I think you're a goddamn _fucking_ jackass, and I think anybody who's a goddamn fucking jackass should _die and burn in Hell _for all eternity." Gaara giggled insanely, leaning in closer to Zaku's face. "That means you have to _die_, because, if I were to let you live, I'd be a hypocrite, and I **_loath_** hypocrites. Get it?"

"Gaara," spoke Kankuro suddenly, stepping towards his little brother. His hands and voice were shaking, as if he wanted to run away but couldn't. The courage he displayed was most certainly suicidal, but Shikamaru respected him for it all the same. "Gaara, please, just let him go. He didn't mean it, okay? He's just stupid. He doesn't realize what he did, so just let him go."

Said boy didn't seem to have heard him, his expression never wavering as he continued to apply pressure to the black-haired boy's neck. "So you see my dilemma? I _have_ to kill you. There's no way out of this, **_bitch_**, and trying to escape will just make this all the more _fun _for me."

Leaning over, Shikamaru whispered into Chouji's ear: "Get Dosu." His friend left instantly, disappearing into the crowd without question. Turning to Naruto and Sai, he said in a hushed voice, "He's not going to listen to reason, so we're going to have to act fast. Sai, Naruto, you guys need to restrain him and take away that letter opener while I get Zaku out of here, got it?"

Naruto stared blankly at him for a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth open, as if he hadn't heard a word he said. Sai nodded, though, pushing Naruto forward and into the ring. Snapping to attention, the blonde lurched forward, a determined gleam entering his eyes as he and Sai rushed toward Gaara, Shikamaru on their heels, and Kankuro hurrying in from the other side. Sai was the first to reach Gaara, shoving the redhead's shoulders so as to dislodge him while Kankuro wrapped his arms around his brother's chest. As Shikamaru dragged Zaku away, Naruto pried at Gaara's fingers, trying to get at the letter opener— except he couldn't get to it in time.

"**_LET GO OF ME!" _**roared Gaara, his face twisting with rage. Naruto yelped as he was thrown off his feet, the red-head thrashing about wildly in Kankuro's hold. At the edge of the crowd appeared Chouji, with Dosu and Kin in toe, both of them in Egyptian costumes (Kin was a princess and Dosu was a mummy) and Shikamaru took that opportunity to get Zaku out of Gaara's line of fire.

"Take him and get him as far away from here as possible before he get's himself disemboweled," he ordered, dumping Zaku's coughing form in Dosu's arms, not bothering to explain further. He grabbed the end of Chouji's scarf, pulling him in a bit closer to the growing fight taking place in the ring. Shikamaru scowled.

"Gaara, c'mon, just give me the letter opener, okay—?"

"LET GO OF ME! LET GO OF ME! LET GO OF ME! LET GO OF ME! LET—!"

"Please! Gaara, just calm down! We don't want to hurt you!"

"_LET GO OF ME! LET GO OF ME! LET GO OF—!_"

"Calm down Gaara, we're just trying to help!" yelled Kankuro over the shouts filling the room. As strong as the junior was, he couldn't hold down his little brother for very long. At least, not as long as he had that damned letter opener. Naruto couldn't seem to pry Gaara's grip loose, but then, hadn't Sai said that Gaara had a grip as strong as a bear trap? Damn, this wasn't good.

"What the fuck is going on?" came a demanding voice. The crowd parted, allowing for three people to come storming through. One was Tenten, her face flushed and angry (dressed as a genie), the next was a boy he didn't recognize (dressed as some sort of martial arts fighter), but from his pale eyes he assumed it was another Hyuuga (seriously, it was as they were a whole separate race with the number of people they had in that family), and the third was a woman he'd only met once in his entire life time— and had hoped never to meet again.

Temari's face was drawn and angry as she stepped into the ring, her pale green eyes flashing with a dangerous light that did not bode well for the occupants of said ring. While he didn't know what she had dressed herself as, the giant fan she was toting was enough to make him nervous. He winced. By _gods,_ he hoped he wouldn't get hit with that thing.

"I said, what the fuck is going on?" snapped Tenten, just before she seemed to realize what the scene before her meant and she proceeded to duck behind the Hyuuga, who simply rolled his eyes. Temari was not so easily deterred.

"What the hell?" she hissed, striding forward to grab the red-head's wrists and hold them at his sides. Kankuro tightened his hold around his brother's chest, breathing hard, while Sai and Naruto retreated, watching the blonde woman trying to sooth their homicidal friend.

"What happened?" she asked calmly.

Gaara's eyes were still wide, his face pinched and angry. "That fucking dick face! You know what that mother fucker was thinkin'? Huh? You know? He was _laughing_. The goddamned bastard was _laughing at me! _LAUGHING AT ME! That god damn _fucking_ little shitwad! Fuck, I'm gonna **_KILL_** him!"

He started to struggle again, thrashing madly in his brother's arms. Temari held firm, her fingers slowly inching towards Gaara's palm where the letter opener was still clutched. The red-head didn't seem to notice, but he certainly didn't calm down, and the patience of the others around him had finally worn thin.

Kisame and Hidan pushed past him suddenly, almost knocking him clear into Chouji, followed closely by Deidara and Sasori, joined by Zabuza from across the ring. The three giants surrounded Gaara, each taking a limb to hold still, and Zabuza pulled Kankuro away so as to take his place. Temari focused on the letter opener, grunting as she tried to uncurl the boy's fingers. Gaara was putting up one hell of a fight.

"LET ME THE FUCK GO, YOU DICKWADS! LET THE FUCK GO OF ME! LET GO LET GO LET GO LET GO LET GO LET GO LET GO LET—!"

"Gaara, let go!" ordered Temari, her voice firm.

"NO!"

"Gaara—!"

"I said NO!" Gaara gave a might jerk, breaking free from Kisame's hands. The blue skinned man blinked in shock, caught off guard, before grabbing him back.

But not before he got the chance to stab somebody.

"FUCK!" Hidan snarled, letting go to clutch his arm in pain. Temari clawed at her little brother's hand, prying the fingers away long enough to snatch the device out of his reach. Without thinking about it, Shikamaru stepped forward and grabbed the letter opener out of her hand, his other hand still gripping Chouji's scarf, before he sprinted to the front door. Gaara gave a furious roar, breaking away momentarily to chase after him.

"_GIVE IT BACK_!"

The front door was flung open and he raced out, Chouji and Gaara at his heels, shoving the letter opener into his jacket pocket.

"Got a spoon?" he panted, turning his head slightly to glance at Chouji as they raced off the porch and onto the lawn. A white plastic spoon was pressed to his hand and he about faced, pulling Chouji's scarf so as to lead him around behind him. Gaara stopped dead in front of the Nara, his breathing ragged and his eyes alight with excitement.

"Want your blade?" he asked coolly. Gaara sneered, advancing on him. Quickly, he chucked the spoon out into the drive way, watching it fade into the darkness. "Then go get it."

Gaara took off after the spoon, snarling obscenities into the air. Temari, Naruto, Sai, Kankuro, Kiba, Shino, Lee, Hinata, Haku, Sasuke (when did he join in?), Kisame, Hidan, Zabuza, Deidara, Sasori, Zetsu and the orange-masked boy came pouring out after him, pooling onto the lawn as they tried to figure out where the dangerous red-head had gone.

"Where is he? Where is he?" demanded Temari, her eyes flashing. Shikamaru pointed.

"He went to get his blade."

Temari's eyes widened and suddenly her hands had wrapped around his throat, her face thunderous to the point of god-like furry. He really, _really_ wished he hadn't just said that.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?" she hissed, shaking his neck and causing his head to nod forcibly.

"That's not what I meant," he growled out, shoving her away. "I'm not _stupid_." He rubbed his throat with one hand, the other diving into his pockets to retrieve the letter opener. Calmly, he dropped it in her hands. "I threw a spoon."

"**_SHIKAMARU!_**"

Scowling, he turned to look as a furious Gaara with the plastic spoon clutched painfully tight in his hand stumbled toward him—

Wait, stumbled?

He looked closer, realizing that the teen wasn't walking quite right, as if he couldn't keep his balance, and though his face was angry, his eyes were no longer bright with hate, but glassy and fogged over. Temari blinked at her brother, she too having noticed the odd change, and pushed the blade back into his hands, moving to grab hold of the wobbly red-head. Kankuro followed suit, his brow furrowed, and they both held him up, keeping the boy on his feet.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Kankuro quizzically. Gaara blinked hard, his eyes trying to focus.

"He can't even walk a strait line, yeah!" declared Deidara, blue eyes wide with interest.

"Maybe he's sick," suggested Naruto with his face and voice concerned. He pressed the back of his hand against Gaara's forehead; said boy went cross-eyed trying to focus on the "cereal killer's" hand.

"Yeah, sick in the head," grumbled Kiba. Haku cuffed him on the back of the head, sending the werewolf a heated look.

"Don't be a jackass, Kiba," snapped the sophomore.

"I'm just sayin'," growled the boy, rubbing his head. Shino shifted beside his friend, looking over at the Sabaku's.

"Is he taking any medication?" asked the bug boy in a level tone. Temari blinked, looking over at Shino uncertainly. Kankuro was the one who answered him.

"Yeah, he is."

"Then it's probably just the medication reacting with alcohol," reasoned the black-haired teen. Naruto stared at him in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Gaara doesn't drink!"

"Yeah, I was with him almost the whole time and he didn't have any alcohol," vouched Sasuke, raising his hand as if he were in a court room.

"Then how does one get drunk without actually drinking?" wondered Lee aloud, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Haku turned to Sasuke.

"What did he drink tonight?" he asked. The Uchiha blinked, thinking back over the night.

"Let's see, there was some water bottles that we got, but then they got spilt, and so we got some punch, and then we managed to snag some unopened Pepsi bottles."

"Well, that explains that, yeah," mumbled Deidara grumpily, "the Pepsi is what made him sick, yeah." Sasori sighed.

"Don't be stupid, Deidara."

"I'm not stupid, yeah!"

"Of course not."

"That's right, yeah!" Sasori rolled his eyes.

"Cut it out, we've got a serious problem here," snapped Haku, his voice cutting through their argument easily. The two quieted, but not before the blonde stuck his tongue out at the geisha.

"Haku's right," agreed Kankuro, still holding his brother up. The younger boy looked pale and sedated, his eyes unfocused. Shikamaru felt worry creep into his mind, adding to the thoughts whirling through his head. "The water and Pepsi couldn't have been spiked because they were unopened," he looked quickly to Sasuke, "right?"

"Right," concurred Sasuke.

"So that means the only thing it could have been would be the punch," stated Kisame, looking between Kankuro and Sasuke.

"Who would be so un-youthful as to spike the punch?" wailed Lee, his already wide eyes becoming bigger still. Slowly, almost like a scene out of a suspence film, everyone turned to look at Kiba, who stood shuffling his feet guiltily.

"Um, sorry?" he said uncertainly, dark eyes darting around at all of them. Kankuro and Temari looked pissed. _Seriously_ pissed. So pissed that even _Orochimaru_ would've run away at the look on their faces.

"You _WHAT?_" they screamed together, causing a few house lights down the street to blink on and for Gaara and Hinata to jump about a foot in the air. Kiba shrunk back under their heated glares, his body shaking with barely suppressed fear. Shikamaru sighed. This night was _far_ too troublesome.

"That was also why Misters Sakon and Ukon kissed Miss Hinata," piped in the orange-masked boy, his voice drawing the Sabaku sibling's attention.

"Who the hell are you?" barked Temari, her eyes hardening. Tobi bowed graciously at her, taking her hand to plant a soft kiss on it. The girl blushed, stammering slightly.

"I am Tobi, a friend of Mister Zetsu," he told her.

"_Zetsu?_" cried Kankuro, blinking in surprise. The bicolored flytrap shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tilting his head curiously to the side.

"Hmm . . . you look familiar . . . . . . what? No, no this is the older one . . . . . Yes, that's right . . . . . . oh, something like can— can— can—"

"Kankuro?" supplied Deidara, looking up at the taller man. Zetsu nodded, exhaling softly.

"Yes."

"Wow I haven't seen you since—!"

Kankuro was cut off as Temari slapped her hand over his mouth, hissing at him to shut up. The group stared at them, expressions morphing into several different emotions. Kiba, Hinata, Lee, Hidan, Deidara, Kisame and Sasuke all looked thoroughly surprised, unaware as to what was so important that needed to be kept under wraps (well, Sasuke sort of looked surprised; he wasn't big on the whole "emotion" thing. All he really did was raise an eyebrow). From behind him, Chouji shifted and with a glance over his shoulder he knew that his friend was just as clueless as the others. Naruto seemed nervous, and Zabuza, Sai, Sasori, Zetsu and Tobi expressed no emotion whatsoever (of course, Tobi could've been squinting quizzically at them and no one would know it, since his mask pretty much hid any reaction he might have had).

He frowned, staring at them all with sharp, clear eyes. There was something off here, and he knew that it wasn't something appropriate for a mixed audience, so the disclosure of important information was pretty much shot. For a moment he was tempted to move his hands into his "thinking seal" (that's what Asuma called it, since he only used it when he was concocting a brilliant plan to get out of troublesome point in chess), but he kept his hands at his sides, realizing abruptly that he was still clutching Chouji's scarf. He let it go, but his hand felt colder now, and he scowled at not having kept hold of the warm fabric.

"Ha ha, well anyway," laughed Temari, trying vainly to break the tension, "I think it's time for this night to end. Kankuro, I'm gonna take Gaara home, m'kay?"

"Oh sure, yeah, I'll go with you," agreed Kankuro instantly, moving with Temari as they carried Gaara to the older girl's PT Cruiser. "Hey, we'll see you guys on Monday?" he called over his shoulder.

"See ya then!" replied Naruto, waving.

They were all left standing in the middle of Tenten's lawn, bathed in the light of the beaming jack-'o'-lanterns, gazing back and forth between each other. For a moment all was quiet, the only sounds coming from the loud pound of music from inside the house and the whoops and cheers of the people still partying. A crash sounded from within, followed by a deafening shriek, and Kiba let out a giggle, cupping a hand over his mouth to stifle it.

Haku sighed, flipping his hair in a business-like manner before addressing them all.

"So who's ridding with who?"

* * *

"Did ya hear, did ya hear?" chorused Naruto excitedly. Shikamaru groaned, sliding down in his chair as he reached for some of Chouji's chips. When Naruto was born, they should've put a sticker on him saying: _"WARNING: If kept in contact with for long periods of time, you will be subjected to never-lasting peace, ringing ears, raw nerves, and a continuously lowering IQ."_ Seriously, it should be a mandatory procedure by now.

They were sitting in history class on a perfectly good Monday morning (ha, that was a laugh), waiting for Kakashi to show up. The other students were all talking as they usually did, Kiba had goaded Shino into helping him mess with the TV, and from the corner of his eye he could see Sakura and Ino talking animatedly with the other girls, blushes and giggles the primary language between them. Shikamaru had (miraculously) been on time that morning and hadn't missed Anko's announcement about grades getting handed out later in the week, nor her lecture on what would happen to them if they didn't pass.

Oh joy.

After the party on Saturday, his weekend had been a total humdinger, full of sleeping, eating, cloud watching and —wait for it— working. Gee, spending weekends with him was a roller coaster ride, wasn't it? Oh great, he was being _cynical_ again. Well, at least Chouji didn't mind hanging out with him and sitting through his daily activities (consisting of nothing but lying down), so it couldn't be _that_ bad. But then, Chouji was too nice a person to simply tell someone that they were as exciting as a dry roasted peanut. No matter how true it was.

"What, Naruto?" asked Chouji politely. Naruto grinned wildly, jumping up and down in his seat.

"A new student is transferring in and they say that he's really _famous!_" gossiped the blonde, his eyes glowing brightly. He raised an eyebrow, swallowing his food.

"Where'd you hear this?"

"Sakura," Naruto said, as if this answered everything.

"So it's immediately believed to be true?" he questioned skeptically. The blonde scowled.

"She wouldn't lie," he pouted. Chouji coughed, his face going red as he just barely escaped choking on a mouthful of chips. Shikamaru snorted, eyeing his energetic friend critically.

"Sure she wouldn't." Naruto didn't catch the sarcasm.

"Besides, even that guy —what's his name?— Deidara said so. I ran into him this morning on my way to my locker an—!"

"Wait, do mean "run into" as in "noticed and decided to talk to" or as in "ran strait into and fell flat on your ass"?" Naruto stuck his tongue out, huffing indignantly.

"The second one."

"I thought so."

"_Any_way, as I was saying," continued Naruto, glaring at him, "Sakura said he's supposed to be one of those prodigy kids that gets, like, all the first prizes at the science fairs and spelling bees and shit like that. That's kinda stupid, but she and Lee say that he's also really good at sports and that he's gonna be playing basketball when he gets here."

"Why are _you_ so excited about this?"

Naruto sighed in exasperation, giving him an impatient look. "Be_cause_, he's the one that's gonna get us to the nationals this year! Don't you want our team to win?"

"Honestly? I don't care." The blonde threw his hands up in frustration.

"Jeeze! The _one_ day Gaara has to be absent!" he complained, turning back around in his seat to glare moodily at the chalk board. Shikamaru rolled his eyes, grabbing a few more chips from Chouji. What a day indeed. It was odd for Gaara to miss a school day, since he was well aware (no matter how much the green-eyed teen tried to hide it) that his father was a complete hardass when it came to grades. For the man to let Gaara miss school was unorthodox and totally off script, making him highly suspicious of the whole ordeal. Especially since neither Kankuro or Temari had shown up either. Something wasn't quite right.

Sasuke wasn't here either, which was odd but not improbable. The raven-haired teen had ditched on several occasions, so for him to miss today wasn't so big a deal. Kiba was certainly making up for any lack of noise or criticism, anyway. Seriously, had he chugged an entire bowl of sugar this morning? Or maybe he'd just eaten some Coco Puffs. Both options were exactly the same thing and yet totally believable.

Naruto spun around suddenly, his eyes wide with a sudden realization. "Oh crap! I forgot to do my homework!" A hopeful look was sent his way, and Shikamaru had to suppress a groan as the blonde leaned over onto his desk.

"Hey, Shikamaru? Can I borrow your math homework?"

"I don't do homework," he stated dully. Naruto's jaw dropped, his face painted thickly in disbelief.

"_Seriously?_" he yelped, aghast. He nodded, taking another handful of chips. The blonde turned helplessly to Chouji, a pleading look sliding onto his face. "Chouji? Would you be a good friend and let me see your homework?"

Damn that Naruto; he said the magic words. A guilty look crossed Chouji's face, his brows furrowing in worry as he chewed. Chouji was resolutely convinced that he wasn't good at school work, careful not to let anyone see his scores; not even him, which irked him a little (weren't they friends? He shouldn't worry about criticism). This, of course, was another attribute gained from his inferiority complex, one which he was solidly convinced he needed to get rid of. Along with the complex itself, but that would take longer, and it was better to fix these things one step at a time.

"Um, I-I'm not that good at math, so . . . I don't think my homework will do you any good . . . ." Naruto sighed, deflating slightly. Chouji's guilty look intensified and Shikamaru repressed a glare.

"Why don't you ask Shino? He always does his homework," he suggested tightly. Naruto's face brightened and he leapt out of his seat, trotting over to the bug-boy with a pencil and paper clutched in his hands. Chouji looked after him, his eyes squinted in concern (guilt) and his hand moving faster to put food in his mouth (stop eating, Chouji, stop eating).

"I hope he isn't mad at me . . . ." Shikamaru glanced over at him, trying not to look as angry as he felt.

"Don't worry Chouji. This isn't your fault." His friend sent a small smile at him and he smiled back, reaching for more chips just as the class room door was thrown open.

"Ah, hello class. Sorry, on my way over I saw a dairy cow crossing the intersection, so I just had to—"

"LIAR!" screamed Naruto and Sakura, both of them leaping up to point accusingly at their history teacher. The silver-haired man eyed them critically, his one visible eye half-lidded in mild amusement.

"Haruno, Uzumaki, I think you two need more homework."

Shikamaru laughed into his arms as Naruto and Sakura started to roar objections at the wily teacher, laying his head down for a much needed nap.

Mondays were such a bore.

* * *

"Ahem, ahem," coughed Hayate, trying poorly to gain the class's attention. Shikamaru kept his head down, half listening to what his math teacher was saying. He needed to save his energy for work after school (since it was Tuesday and all), which was much more important than studying a subject he already knew a shit load about. Besides, Hayate didn't mind. The perpetually sick teacher didn't much care for what he did in class so long as he got good grades on his tests.

"Students," tired the man again, looking around the room with disinterest, "can I have your attention?"

One of the better students, Takeshi, managed to gain the class's attention ("Hey, shut the hell up, ya bastards!") and managed to gain a quiet room in which their teacher could speak. Blearily, he looked up at the man, watching as Hayate blinked at them in a surprised manner before remembering his announcement.

"Ahem, well, yeah, so I have an announcement to make," he paused, as if waiting for someone to butt in. When no one moved to speak, he continued. "Our new transfer student has arrived and will be joining us for the rest of the year (cough cough). Please come in now." The last sentence was addressed to the door, which was opened to reveal their new classmate.

Shikamaru almost fell clean out of his seat.

_Holy shit, it's Sasuke! _was the first thought that ran through his head, followed closely by, _Since when did Sasuke have bags under his eyes? _He stared numbly at the new boy, trying to kickstart his mind, which seemed to have frozen up on him for no reason whatsoever. Once started, he looked closer, and found that this new student wasn't, in fact, Sasuke, but someone _extremely_ similar to him. Like a much taller twin. Or an older twin.

Or a brother.

_Didn't one of Naruto's troop say something about Sasuke having a brother? _It did sound familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd heard it, and he honestly couldn't say if it were true or not. The Uchiha family was pretty big, after all, and it wouldn't be _that_ farfetched to have two similar-looking cousins in the same generation. In fact, that was probably the case.

"This is Itachi Uchiha, and he'll be joining our class for the rest of the year," continued Hayate, coughing horribly before going on. "Uh, you can sit, um . . . ah, how about (cough, cough) behind Nara? He's the one with the pony tail." Itachi smiled slightly, his too-pale face hardly moving with the effort. His eyes were really, really dark, rivaling Sasuke's own obsidian orbs, and he felt like he shouldn't be looking strait at them. Likes staring into the eyes of a basilisk or a roc. But he didn't.

He just kept staring.

Like a complete and total idiot.

Boy, did he feel stupid.

"Hello," greeted Itachi softly dropping his bag next to his seat before moving to sit behind him. "What's your name?" He hesitated, unsure as to whether or not he should answer.

"Shikamaru Nara. Welcome to Honors Trig. Now good night." He buried his head in his arms, not caring whether or not that sounded as lame to the Sasuke lookalike as it did to him. There was something off about him, a feeling set out of place (almost like Zetsu, but not as powerful), but he couldn't pinpoint it exactly yet, so he let it go, breathing out slowly as he settling in for his nap. Hayate's voice droned on in the back of his senses, starting in on his lecture fairly quickly. The man's voice was joined by the squeak of marker on the dry-erase board, and he was moments from falling totally asleep when something poked him in the back of the neck.

There was a long moment where he didn't react at all, just blinking down at the surface of his desk, before his snapped his head up and whirled around to face Itachi. The older teen was smirking at him, holding a pencil in his hand absently. He glared for a moment, debating whether or not he should snap at him, before turning around and resting his head back on the desk.

Except he was poked again.

In the _ear_.

"Okay, what do you want?" he huffed, twisting in his seat to land narrow eyes on an all too amused Uchiha. Said boy just smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"You shouldn't sleep in class."

He stared at him, blinking one or twice as he processed what this Sasuke clone had said to him.

"That's _IT?_"

This was one _seriously_ bad joke.

Itachi laughed, leaning forward to rest on his elbows. He was smirking, as if he found this all so very hilarious and entertaining. Shikamaru could feel himself bristling again, that feeling of bad luck washing over him at the close proximity of the older student.

"Yes, that's it. But I _would_ like it if you would pay attention." He said it like he had no choice, as if there was no way Shikamaru would do otherwise. As if it were already decided that he would obey and pay attention in class. The Nara frowned, leveling Itachi with a firm glare.

"Too freakin' bad."

And he turned back around to sleep soundly through the whole math period undisturbed.

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	7. Toilet Plunger

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Gaara x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, and rape. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you.

* * *

_

"Alright, I'm officially dead," declared Haku, dropping down on his seat at the table, before slumping over onto Zabuza. The larger man blinked at the sophomore, face blank as a sheet of paper, before taking the boy's lunch and shifting through it for something he'd find appetizing.

It was second lunch and all of them were seated at their self-proclaimed table, snacking on whatever they could pass off as food. Or rather, everyone but Lee, Sai, Chouji and him were snacking on whatever they could pass off as food. Lee and Sai always brought lunches from home (damn smart of them, too; he could've sworn Naruto's Mystery Meat had moved), and Chouji had taken it upon himself to pack his own meal that morning. A dozen sandwiches, each one with a different combination of meat and dairy products, chips, apple slices, celery, cucumber slices, grapes, deviled eggs, cookies, and four different juices (grape, orange, apple, and cranberry). It was a miracle all of it had fit in his locker, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Asuma had something to do with it, since he was one of the few teachers with a mini refrigerator in his classroom. But that wasn't even the best part.

Chouji was _sharing._

With him.

Naruto had loudly objected Chouji's blatant favoritism, of course, but once Chouji settled his patented Glare of Doom on the furious blonde, said blonde shut his mouth and ducked behind Gaara, who simply rolled his eyes (where had he seen that before?). Kiba and Kankuro were subjected to this "Glare of Doom" as well, when they pretended (well, Kiba was actually trying to) steal some of the freshman's food. Chouji's glare was primal, sending shivers down both of their spines; even Gaara had inched away at the look on his friend's face. No one messed with Chouji when it came to food. _Nobody_.

Surprisingly, Gaara had shown up in the middle of History class (even after Kakashi had arrived, which was saying something), that morning, sporting a glare and a scowl that told everyone, quite clearly, to leave him the hell alone. Even Naruto had left the red-head be when he'd been sent that look, fidgeting nervously all throughout Kakashi's lecture. It wasn't until sometime during their third hour that they "made up" and by the time he saw them again in P.E., Gaara was back to his snide, sarcastic old self. Not that this was a bad thing, but it certainly wasn't all that great for him, since they were playing dodge ball today and with him being so damn slow, it was all too easy to get him out. Which, again, wasn't a bad thing, but Gaara had one hell of an arm on him; he was sure he'd be nursing some nasty bruises tomorrow.

"If you were dead, you'd smell a lot worse," grumbled Naruto, still upset that he couldn't have some of Chouji's "fantastic, amazing, over the top, super-fantastical, lunch-from-the-Lunch-Gods" lunch.

"I _smell?_" yelped Haku, whipping his head around to stare wide-eyed at Naruto.

"No, you don't smell, Haku," reassured Zabuza flatly, munching away at the boy's sandwich. Haku scowled and snatched his sandwich back, taking a large bite out of it before smirking up at his boyfriend.

"That's mine," he stated smugly. While Haku and Zabuza battled valiantly over the poor PB&J, Kiba called everyone's attention to him with a bang of his fork against the tabletop. He actually looked serious, which was unexpectedly funny.

"Okay, so back to what I was saying earlier. It's been half a school day, and _still_ nobody's seen this new kid?"

Shikamaru wanted very badly to take his deviled egg and stuff it down Kiba's throat right then. All day they'd all been talking about it, trying to figure out who it could be and whether they should toilet paper his house (Kiba's idea, obviously) or if they should try and make him feel welcome at Konoha High. Most of the discussion was centered around _who_ this person was, which was an open debate so long as no one met him (he already knew who the kid was, but it was much more interesting to watch them all try and guess Itachi's "identity"). So far, the most popular guesses as to who their new schoolmate was, were:

1. A diplomat's son from Russia who's coming here to get away from the snow leopards,

2. A violinist from Switzerland who's tired of eating cheese and wants a hamburger for once in his life,

3. A space alien from Jupiter/Saturn/Mars/Uranus/etc. who wants to eat their brains,

or

4. Another Hyuuga.

It was safe to say that no one was even remotely close to actually answering the question correctly.

The only person (besides himself and Chouji) who wasn't partaking in the discussion was Sasuke, who had remained in a sour mood all day. When Naruto had challenged him to a doge ball contest in P.E., he'd gone all out to beat the pants of the blonde, throwing more balls than both teams put together and sending more people to the sidelines then mathematically possible. Like Gaara, Sasuke had one hell of an arm (mostly because he was on Konoha's baseball and basketball teams, but still) and so he also contributed to the many sores on his body that had previously only been given by Gaara (bunch of bullies, the lot of them). Although he couldn't figure out why Sasuke was so short-tempered, he could determine that it had something to do with Itachi, since whenever the topic of the new student was brought up (i.e., whenever Kiba opened his mouth), his scowl darkened and he tended to stab whatever was in front of him with whatever happened to be in his hand at the moment. Shikamaru seriously pitied the boy's lunch and spork.

"Well, from what Dei told me," said Kankuro, scarfing down Sai's twinky (uninvited, mind you), "He's a junior and a really, really _smart_ junior, so the only people who even have a chance of seeing him are not sitting at this table."

"I'd take offense to that if it weren't true," Sai said smoothly, stealing back the remaining twinky.

"What's so great about him that you need to obsess over him for?" questioned Gaara irritably. Kiba, Lee, and Naruto all fixed shocked, wide eyes on the red-head (who simply glared back), each one displaying their own horrified face.

"_**WHY?** _Because he's going to get us to the _nationals! **Duh!**_"

This was exclaimed by all three of them in sync, accompanied by them leaping up to bang their hands against the table. Scowling (probably), Shino moved his tray away from Kiba's hands, taking care to not disturb the fly that had landed on his Mystery Meat. Said fly took a bite of the food before dropping dead, it's hind leg twitching slightly before stilling. What did the lunch ladies _put_ in this stuff? _Good God_, it must be nasty. Thank God for Chouji and his lunch-making skills. Seriously, this meal was fantastic.

"That's all?" snapped Sasuke. His bad mood obviously hadn't cleared, and he wasn't trying to hide it, by any means. Naruto took it upon himself to answer. Quite loudly, as was his nature.

"YE_AH!_ I mean, come _on!_ We haven't been to the nationals, in, like, _ever!_ Don't you want to get that trophy back?"

"No."

"Well fuck you, Sasuke-bastard!"

"Whatever, Dead Last."

"Why you—!"

Gaara jerked Naruto's collar, forcing him to sit back down as the boy leapt up to strangle the smirking Uchiha. The blonde struggled in his friend's hold, insisting loudly (could he do _anything_ quietly?) that he "could take the bastard any day of the week!" Shikamaru really, really doubted that, but he wasn't much interested in trashing Naruto's fantasy world so early in the day. That could always wait for later, though it wouldn't do any good one way or another.

"Okay, so he's good at sports. That just means he's another kid to join the jock table," grumbled Gaara, still not looking all that pleased. He couldn't blame him, but Kiba certainly wasn't going to let his opinion go unsaid.

"Does that mean we're not going to toilet paper his house?" asked the dog boy glumly. Gaara glared.

"Shut up, Baka-inu."

"Gaara's got a point," said Haku, joining their conversation. Both he and Zabuza had peanut butter and jelly around their mouths with no sandwich in sight. By Haku's flushed cheeks, Shikamaru could guess as to what they'd been doing during the whole "new student" debate. "Since he's a jock, he wouldn't be interested in being our friend, and by default, we wouldn't go out of our way to talk to him when he starts sitting over with the rocks-for-brains club."

"Then why are we still talking about this? If the only thing he's good for is scoring a few dunk shots, then what's the use talking about him?" demanded Gaara, his scowl fixed in place.

"Well, what if he's not a stuck-up prick and he's actually fun to hang around with?" retorted Kiba.

"Trust me, he isn't," growled Sasuke. Naruto jumped up in excitement, bright blue eyes wide with interest.

"You mean you know who he is?"

"Tell us, tell us!"

"BE YOUTHFUL AND TELL US OF MY NEW TEAMMATE!"

Sasuke looked aggravated. Shikamaru doubted that he'd intended on letting that bit of information slip, but it was too late and now he had all eyes on him, curious and excited alike. Sighing and telling himself what an absolute fool he was, he spoke up.

"He's probably an Uchiha." The whole table had shifted its attention from Sasuke to Shikamaru, eager curiostity burning in their eyes at the thought of finally unveiling the mysterious new student. He felt like kicking himself. Why oh _why_ did he have to open his goddamn mouth?

"Really? Why do you say that?" asked Kankuro inquisitively.

"Because he looks almost exactly like Sasuke."

The reaction was immediate. Sasuke looked horrified, his face twisting from a scowl to horror in two seconds flat. Haku blinked rapidly, leaning back in mild shock, as he stared blankly at Shikamaru. Kankuro, however, was the most affected by this statement.

"_Itachi?_" he cried, leaping up. The Sabaku's eyes were wide, his face paint cracking slightly in its attempt to accommodate the junior's expression. He could honestly say he'd never seen the kitty-eared boy so worked up before (except maybe at Tenten's party), and it almost blew him away with its intensity. Almost.

"You've met?" he asked, grabbing a sandwich slice from Chouji's meal and taking a small bite of it.

"Hell yeah we've met!" he retorted, leaning forward to stare him strait in the face. "We've been friends since God knows _how_ long! I haven't seen him in a _whole year _and you didn't think to tell me?"

He swallowed quickly, narrowing his eyes at the older boy. "Hey, don't go blaming _me_, I didn't know you were friends. Besides, he interrupted my nap."

"You must not like him all that much, then," laughed Chouji, grinning playfully at him.

"He's not the highest up on my Tolerable People List, no," he admitted, taking another bite. It was probably imagined, but he could've sworn Sasuke looked a little pleased at that. Kankuro scowled.

"How can you not like Itachi? He's one of the greatest people in our generation! He—!"

"Yeah, _one of_," cut in Shikamaru before the older student could go on. "He may be good at sports and he may be smart, but so are a lot of people. What's so different about him?"

"He is a certified genius," answered Sai, blinking impassively. He couldn't help narrowing his eyes at the blank-faced boy, a prickling feeling crawling up his spine as the words sunk in. Chouji seemed uncertain, squinting his dark eyes as he swallowed handfuls of cookies at a time in rapid succession, glancing over at Shikamaru uneasily. Naruto looked between the two, confusion evident in his eyes (when is it not?).

"Whaddaya mean he's a genius?" he asked. The same question seemed to be shared between the bulk of them, he, Kankuro, Haku, and Zabuza being the only ones not at all befuddled. Haku huffed, sending a glare at Sai before answering.

"He means that Itachi's IQ is somewhere around 190-210. Technically, he's a genius."

"_Holy shit!_"

"THAT IS QUITE YOUTHFUL!"

"Is that even _possible?_"

"Good for him," sneered Gaara, crossing his arms, "but why should I care about that?"

"You've got to be kidding me!" cried Kankuro, looking for all intents and purposes flabbergasted. It was actually kind of funny. "Itachi is a school _legend! _I mean, he's the smartest kid ever to set foot on campus, he's the best athlete the school's ever seen, he's the most popular person ever and he's the only guy I know who's managed to practically _run_ student council and win every sports game out there!"

"I'm flattered, Kanky, that you think so highly of me."

Everyone jumped, whirling around in random directions at the arrival of the new voice. Sasuke and Shikamaru, however, already knew who it was, and displayed varied signs of annoyance in response to said voice. Grudgingly he stuffed a few apple slices in his mouth, glaring over Shino's head at their newest arrival.

"Itachi!" exclaimed Kankuro for the second time, leaping out of his seat to bounce energetically in front of the smaller male. "I haven't seen you in for_ever! _Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," replied Itachi calmly, smiling at the flamboyant junior. He set down his tray between Kankuro's and Haku's lunch, though he didn't sit down himself. Swallowing, Shikamaru studied the older student, eyes narrowed in thought. Somehow, the Uchiha's face had become more humanized, more alive, when he smiled at Kankuro. How interesting. Not.

Kankuro didn't seem to like his friends answer, his voice rising as he opposed the boy's excuse. "You could've called!"

"But then it wouldn't have been a surprise, now would it?"

Itachi smirked up at him, the Sabaku babbling half-formed objections as to the other's lack of communication. Snapping his mouth closed and squinting accusingly at the Uchiha, Kankuro simply stared at the shorter boy, easily drawing everyone's attention. Then, without any warning whatsoever, he laughed and grabbed his friend up in a bear hug, swinging Itachi around like a doll.

"You're such a bastard, ya know that?" laughed Kankuro.

"Ah! Hey, put me down!" cried Itachi, though he was laughing too. Shikamaru snorted, tossing a grape into his mouth. Jeeze, they were acting like a bunch of kids. They might as well be at a playground in McDonalds for all the good their age did them. He sipped at his can of juice (apple, of course), eyes still narrowed. _Bunch of troublesome ninnies._

"_You're_ Itachi?" asked Kiba wide-eyed. The dog boy was oddly quiet, his gaze fixed on the older Uchiha as if, should he blink, he'd disappear.

"Guilty as charged."

There was a pause where Itachi smiled kindly down at Kiba, who blinked stupidly back. Then, amongst the clatter of the lunch room, Kiba pointed accusingly up at the Uchiha, barking out in surprise.

"You're _tiny!_"

Haku, Naruto, and Kankuro all burst out laughing, tears forming at the corners of their eyes at Kiba's "accusation". Itachi looked mildly offended, though he didn't actually say anything about it, and from where he was seated, Shikamaru could tell that Sasuke found Kiba's comment _highly_ amusing. He himself chuckled slightly, swallowing some cucumber slices before popping a few chips in his mouth. As long as he left three-fourths of the food for Chouji, he could eat anything he wanted. Why waste that option?

"I'm taller than _you_," replied Itachi cooly. Kiba's face reddened, as if realizing what was being said, and jumped up to face Itachi head on.

"I am NOT short!"

"Uh, yeah, you are," gasped Haku between laughs.

"Am not!"

"Are too!" retorted Naruto, getting up from his seat as well.

"Am _not!_"

"Are too!"

"Am NOT!"

"Are TOO!"

"AM _NOT!_"

"ARE _TOO_!"

"_AM **N**—!_"

"**_SHUT THE HELL UP!_**" roared Haku, his face flushed red. Kiba and Naruto froze, shrinking away from the steaming freshman like kicked dogs. The din of the cafeteria evaporated, leaving a thin silence in the air of the room; all eyes were drawn to their table like magnets on a refrigerator, some going so far as to stand on their tables to see what was going on. Haku was glaring at the pair of them, his eyes burning like freshly lit embers, easily scaring the shit out of anyone within view of them. Then, as if nothing had happened, the lunch room returned to it's chaotic state, voices carrying loudly in the echoing room. Kankuro laughed, pulling him and Itachi onto the bench to finish their lunch.

"Whoa, Haku! You got one hell of a voice box there!"

The sophomore sent him a glare (not nearly as powerful as his last one), before sitting himself down next to Zabuza and taking an authoritive bite out of his celery stick. Shikamaru had to stifle the urge to laugh.

"If I didn't stop them, they would've just kept fighting until they suffocated themselves."

"Wait, you can do that?" asked Kiba with wonder. Shino cuffed him on the back of the head.

"No, Kiba."

"Hey, you can't hit me!"

"He just did, dummy," jibed Naruto playfully. Kiba stuck his tongue out at him.

"Shut it, blondie!"

"Make me dog-boy!"

"Watch me, whisker-face!"

"Shut up, Baka-inu," snapped Gaara, effectively ending the dispute. Neither party seemed very appreciative of that. Shikamaru rolled his eyes, slouching forward on his elbows and taking a sip of his juice. Itachi blinked over at him, his face as expressive as Sasori's.

"Shikamaru Nara, right? From third hour?" questioned the Uchiha,. Kankuro gave his friend a surprised look, darting his eyes between him and Itachi in question. The others didn't seem to notice, but Sasuke had, and he was listening intently for his response.

"You have a class with Itachi?" asked Kankuro incredulously. He thought quickly, compiling a believable lie in less than a heartbeat.

"I'm a teachers aid third hour. We were introduced."

Kankuro smiled slightly, chuckling a bit as he adjusted his hat. "Oh, okay. For a minute there, I actually thought you had an AP class with Itachi!"

Naruto suddenly came into the conversation, laughing humorously at what Kankuro had said. "No way! Shikamaru's too lazy to be in any advanced classes! He'd fall asleep during the tests and get F's!"

"I can _totally_ see that happening!" laughed Kiba, grinning over at him and Naruto. More laughter was shared and the topic was changed, centering around the other occupants of the table. He yawned, taking a few more chips from Chouji's jumble of food (noting the apologetic look on Chouji's face as he did so) and munched languidly away at said snack. From across the table, he saw Itachi flash him a look that seemed to demand an answer, verbal or not. He snorted, looking away from the Uchiha's dark orbs only to find himself staring into equally dark irises, ones that also seemed to question him forcibly.

Damned Uchihas. All of them were so bloody shrewd, they might as well have ESP. No freakin' wonder they ran the damned police force. He sighed.

He needed a nap.

* * *

"Yo, Itachi! Shikamaru! Down here!" 

_Well duh, _he grumbled to himself, trudging down the aisle after the older Uchiha. It was sixth hour, drama class, and he cursed himself rather colorfully for not ditching it (and for Asuma being the teacher of his fifth hour, but anyway). It wasn't that drama was a hard class, no, far from it; it was probably the second easiest class out of all seven of them (history being the first, since they never actually _did_ anything in that class, no matter what Kakashi seemed to think), but there was one important, fundamental element wrong with it:

Itachi had this class, too.

He had AP chemistry with him as well, but that hadn't been so bad because Asuma arranged seating by last names, and "N" was quite a ways from "U". It still wasn't pleasant, since he had those damned eyes boring holes in the back of his head all during class, and once the bell rang, Itachi had dragged him out of class seconds after asking what his sixth hour was (how was he supposed to know that the junior had drama next, too?), but at least he wasn't a lab partner with him (he was partnered with Fuji, who, quite frankly, baffled him to no end. Seriously, it was as if the kid was constantly high). The buildings all had it out for him, in light of Itachi's schedule. He just _knew_ it was all their fault.

"Hey Kanky, what's up?" said Itachi as Kankuro came within hearing range. They delved into conversation, easily blotting out any other voices that would've interrupted them, and he took the moment to glance around the "class room".

Chatter was hovering over the first few rows like a cloud of gnats, the drama troop swapping stories and information faster than money at a stock market. Up on the stage, the Hotta twins were running around, laughing manically as they chased an over-excited Lee with a toilet plunger (where the hell they'd gotten it, he had no idea, but he made a mental note not to shake hands with them later). The red-head Tayuya was seated on the edge of the stage, swinging her legs and laughing at something a Tenten had said, and in the farthest back row he could see Shino seated, his sunglasses still perched on his nose (did he _ever_ take those off, or were they glued to his head? Ha, like _that_ was possible). Sighing, he took a seat at the end of the second row, dropping his bag between his feet. Why couldn't this day be _over_ already?

"Oh my cow! Itachi, is that _you?_" He looked around to see Tenten gaping open-mouthed at the Uchiha, who had been in the middle of a conversation with Kankuro. Both juniors looked over at the volleyball player, though severely different expressions manifested on their faces. While Itachi looked mildly surprised and even a bit pleased, Kankuro's eyes were dark and stormy, his jaw tightening in barely concealed anger.

"Hello, Tenten. It's nice to see you again," greeted Itachi like a gentleman. The dark-haired girl giggled, flouncing over to him like a toddler on a sugar high. As she got closer, the strain in Kankuro's jaw became more pronounced, and he had to wonder if the normally easy-going Sabaku was finally going to snap. This could be interesting.

"So you're the new transfer?" she asked, her eyes unusually wide as she spoke to Itachi.

"It appears so."

"My gosh! Why didn't anybody tell me? I would've made you lunch!" She actually looked disappointed, as if she wouldn't have liked anything in the world more than making Itachi his lunch. Jeeze, she was acting like a love-sick fool all hopped up on Valentine hype and candy hearts. What, did she have a crush on him or some—?

Like a lighting bolt, it hit him with unnerving accuracy and bluntness. _—There's no way, there's just no way!— _A moment of blank nothingness darted across his mind before everything was shot to hell.

_It was Itachi!_

Itachi was the guy that Kankuro and Tenten had been fighting over a year ago! It had been _him_ who'd brought them at each other's throats, fighting over the Uchiha's affection like a bunch of mentally unstable geese! How the _hell_ had he not seen this before? It was so obvious, now that he thought of it; especially since Kankuro greeted Itachi with as much gusto as he had, and tje way Tenten was being so attentive to Itachi while he spoke. This was all so . . . . . . _creepy_.

"Ah, but I have second lunch, and Tayuya told me you had first lunch," replied Itachi, "but thank you for the offer. That's very kind of you."

"Really?" Tenten looked as happy as a dog with a juicy new bone. "Oh, that's so sweet! But what a shame, being in second lunch. Were you lonely?"

"Ah, no. I sat with Kanky and his friends." The volleyball player's eyes darkened, and she cast a spiteful look at the Sabaku.

"I'm so sorry you had to spend your lunch with a bunch of Jerry Springer Show rejects," she all but growled. Kankuro's fists were curled tightly at his sides, trying to resist the urge to strangle her. Itachi frowned, looking between the two before smiling uncertainly at Tenten.

"I had a wonderful time. Everyone was very entertaining; I had fun."

"Oh, but you can't possibly have fun with idiots like them, can you?"

"Tenten," hissed Kankuro, his eyes burning dangerously, "I'm warning you, if you say _one more thing _about my friends, I'm going to punch you so hard you'll wake up in the goddamn stone age."

She scoffed. "Don't be stupid _Kanky_. I'm not scared of a hippie like you."

"Fuck that, whore," snarled the Sabaku, taking a threatening step forward. Tenten shuffled back, her face expressing a moment of fear before changing back to her haughty confidence. Itachi looked at a loss, sighing as if this were something not at all uncommon. Maybe this was what they'd been like before the Uchiha had transferred.

Tayuya was suddenly behind Tenten, her eyes narrowed in warning. "Hey, back off Kankuro. You take a swing at her, and it's my fists you're gonna have to answer to!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well guess—?"

"—What?"

The Hotta twins were suddenly at Kankuro's sides, their faces split by troubling grins, bright eyes twinkling with barely disguised danger. Each one was holding their hands behind their backs, hiding whatever weapon they could've gotten a hold of to clobber the two girls with. Tenten looked wary but Tayuya sneered.

"Stay out of this, bubble gum-heads!"

"Then leave—"

"—Kanky alone—"

"—Bitchwad."

"Screw you!" snapped the red-head, her eyes flashing.

"Don't count—"

"—On it." The twins grinned at the girls' expressions, looking far too pleased with themselves. Two other girls from the class joined Tenten's side, each of them glaring at the Hotta twins as if they were gum on the bottoms of their shoes.

"Go get a life, cretins!" snapped one of them, a brunette with curly hair.

"Fuck off!" concurred Tenten.

"Not on—!"

"—Your life!" laughed the twins.

Lee appeared suddenly, joining the Hotta twins on Kankuro's side. With a thumbs up and a blinding smile, he declared how un-youthful it would be to let his friend be out-numbered by decidedly un-youthful young women. The girls laughed at the boy's declaration.

"Che, you've got the whole geek squad on your side," jeered Tenten, her eyes dancing with malicious mirth. "All you need now is for sunglasses-boy and pony-tail-boy to stick up for you and you could have your own geek club."

"Yeah, you bunch of freaks!"

"Takes one—!"

"—To know one!"

"Get lost, you got damn demons!" snapped the other girl, a blonde with layered hair.

"Yeah, go fuck each other and leave her alone!" hissed Tayuya.

That comment seemed to have more affect than anything they had said all put together. Each of the twins donned murderous looks and from behind their backs they pulled a plunder and a clarinet, advancing like hungry cats on the prowl. Tenten and her posse backed away, varied degrees of concern and fear spread over their faces. With unhuman smirks, the twins spoke together.

"What did you say, you motherfucking bitch?"

"I-I, wh-what the fuck is wrong with you?" snarled Tayuya uncertainly, her eyes darting warily from one twin to the other.

"Time to teach that bitch a lesson, don't you think Sakon?"

"Oh yes, definitely, Ukon. Let's teach her a lesson."

"HELLO CLASS! HOW ARE YOU ON THIS DAY OF GREAT YOUTHFULNESS? MOST YOUTHFUL, I HOPE!"

Everyone froze, darting their eyes up to watch as Gai came bounding onto the stage, as exuberant as ever. The strange looking man stopped on the edge of the stage, staring down at them with a bright, cheerful smile on his face. It was a moment before anyone could regain their composure, several of them shuffling nervously and casting looks at the other students. Tenten's group of girls backed away, led by Tenten herself, and the Hotta twins quickly tried to hide their weapons.

"IS THAT MY TOILET PLUNGER?"

* * *

**_To be continued . . . ._**


	8. Space Between Your Ribs

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Gaara x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, attempted suicide, and incest. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you.

* * *

_

When he stepped into the Honors Biology classroom, he knew he was going to regret doing so _very_ shortly. Sasuke had arrived already and was sitting at their lab station, a frown on his face and a question in his too-dark eyes. He wanted to curse the damned buildings for making his life so troublesome, but _that_ was too troublesome all on its own, so he settled for grumbling incoherently to himself instead. Apparently, they were doing a lab (where in the world could he have gotten _that_ idea?), forcing them all pair to up and sit at the lab stations for the _entire_ lesson. So now he had to sit through a class period, with Sasuke, partially isolated from the other students, for an _entire hour_.

Oh, he was _so_ screwed.

"Once you've gotten the lab outline, get to your stations and start setting up," ordered Orochimaru from the front of the class, his arms crossed as he surveyed them all scurrying to get to their seats. "You have the rest of the class period to get this done, and if I see even _one_ person misusing the Bunsen burner, they're going to find themselves in a _very _unpleasant position." A look was sent to the Hotta twins, both of whom had come trotting in after Shikamaru and were now tinkering with the lab materials (neither of them looked very trustworthy, but that was a normal appearance for them, so it was almost unnoticeable by now). "That applies to you two as well, Hotta 1 and Hotta 2."

He never had figured out why the teachers referred to the Hotta twins as "Hotta 1 and Hotta 2" instead of by their names, which would be easier when they were together (obviously it wouldn't do very well when just addressing one of them, because it was nearly impossible to tell one brother from the other). Orochimaru, Gai, even Asuma, called the boys by their last name, followed by the 1 and 2 to relate that there were, in fact, two twins to address and not just one. As far as he could tell, though, neither of the twins seemed to mind it, even using it to their advantage when pulling off pranks. It was rather funny, really, to watch the faculty trip and stumble over themselves when trying to discipline a twin that kept changing his identity.

"There will be no visiting, no rule-braking, and _no_ bomb-making. _Is that clear?_" Orochimaru didn't bother waiting for a response, since nobody would've answered anyway. "Get to work."

Grudgingly, he sat down at their lab station and stared dully back at an increasingly jittery Sasuke. The raven-haired boy didn't say anything yet, holding his silence until he was sure they wouldn't be overheard. He skimmed through the lab sheet, avoiding the black eyes boring holes into his forehead, and began setting up their experiment. As hesitant murmurs started to float through the unnaturally cold room (it _should_ have been warmer with all those giant-ass, cold-blooded snakes slithering through their tanks along the walls. Seriously, how were they not _dead _yet?), Sasuke leaned forward, speaking quietly.

"You know Itachi." It was a statement, not a question, and Shikamaru couldn't help but snort.

"As do you." Sasuke frowned and pressed his hands against the tabletop, his eyes locking onto Shikamaru's with unwelcome ease.

"Everybody who meets that jackass falls for his goddamned goody-two-shoes act and starts to worship the bastard like he's the son of god damn fucking Shiva," snapped the other boy, his voice lowering to a sharp hiss. "I'm not so stupid to think that you haven't fallen for it too."

"One, I didn't fall for anything, I simply don't like him, and two, you are _way_ too jealous of Itachi to be having this conversation with me," he insisted, picking up an empty test tube. Sasuke's brow furrowed, his body retracting slightly as the boy's mind interpreted his words. Then his eyes flashed and Sasuke curled his lip in warning before spitting out his defense.

"I'm not jealous of Itachi!" snapped Sasuke, shooting forward to glare strait in his face. He snorted.

"Of course you aren't."

For a few minutes, they simply sat in silence, Shikamaru continuing with their lab while Sasuke eyed him heatedly. Twice Orochimaru came to their station, "overseeing their work" and making the younger Uchiha fidget uncomfortably as those damned yellow eyes watched him. He really didn't like how their Honors Biology teacher seemed to have that unnatural fascination with Sasuke, but he couldn't do anything about it, since there wasn't any hard evidence to back up his theories (none of which were very pleasant to think about, honestly). Sasuke was just going to have to deal with it. For now.

Once their teacher had traveled to the other side of the room and was yelling at Eiji and Shuichiro, who's project had already boiled over and was making a mess of their lab station ("What the hell did you think you were doing?" "We're sorry sir, we didn't realize we were only supposed to put 5 mL in it." "Yeah! I thought it said 50!"), Sasuke spoke, his voice quiet yet forceful, allowing no arguments.

"Are you _really_ an aid third hour?" He blinked slowly over at the Uchiha, schooling his expression to calm indifference before replying.

"Are you _really_ Itachi's brother?" he retorted. The other's eyes flashed, his body jerking forward to growl in his face.

"How'd you know he's my brother?" he demanded, eyes burning with anger and a little bit of fear.

"I didn't."

Sasuke looked shocked for a moment, his eyes going wide enough that he could see the white around his iris, before narrowing furiously. The black-haired boy's fingers were gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles were white, and the look on his face was nothing short of murderous. He actually felt the need to back away.

"Jackass."

". . ."

"I fucking mean it."

"Whatever."

They lapsed into silence again, Shikamaru continuing with their project while Sasuke sat idle across from him. With an annoyed sigh, he set down the test tube and eyedropper, fixing the shorter boy with an narrowed stare. Sasuke glared back, matching and exceeding the other's glare with practiced ease. Sighing, he rolled his eyes.

"Help out, why don't you."

Sasuke snorted. "You're doing fine all by yourself. You didn't even read the whole fucking assignment and already you're doing better than half the guys in here."

"Thanks, but flattery gets you nowhere. Now help."

"Fine. Jesus fucking Christ . . . ."

He just rolled his eyes again. There was a popping sound, and Shikamaru had just enough time to snap "Duck!" at Sasuke before diving behind the station cabinets. Several other students cried out, the thud of bodies hitting the floor in panic rustling throughout the room, before the lab across from his and Sasuke's exploded.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE—!"

KAA—_POOOOOWWWW!_

A cloud of smoke and dust billowed throughout the room, a few sparks flying and glass tinkering as the remains of the bomb fell to the floor. Laughter erupted, followed by congratulations from one twin to another, before Orochimaru managed to wipe his face clean of the fine white powder.

"HO_TTA'S_!"

_This, _he thought to himself as their teacher started to yell his heart out, his face going purple as his lungs forced all the available air out of his body, _is theperfect time to take a nap.

* * *

_

"—And that's when Ino realized that her cheat-sheet was right in plain view of Mr. Umino, and now she's got a week of detention!" laughed Chouji, smiling brightly as he finished his story. Shikamaru laughed, grinning at his friend before sneaking a few cookies away from the other's bag and popping them into his mouth. Chouji wrinkled his nose at him, but Shikamaru just chuckled, spewing bits of Chips Ahoy! out of his mouth as he did so.

They were on their way to work, changed out of their school uniforms and sauntering through town in cargo pants, t-shirts, and sneakers, with their rather bulky book bags slung over their shoulders (their clothes had to go _somewhere_). It was a fairly nice day, maybe even what one could call a "pleasant" day but the pale blue sky was simply that: pale blue. There were no clouds to speak of, no small puffs of white to twirl in the never ending expanse of cerulean, no billowing bulks of off-white to crawl through the air with unbearable slowness. And he _despised_ Tuesday for it. Why did it have to be Tuesday? Well, all the better. Maybe the sky will be cooperative tomorrow.

As they reached the end of the street, Chouji paused, chewing slowly as he gazed thoughtfully at the shop on the corner. Then, as if deciding something, he pulled gently at Shikamaru's sleeve and they entered the store together. He looked back over his shoulder as they passed the threshold, the small jingle of the bell over head signaling their arrival, and smiled.

"Can we look around?"

"Sure."

"Cool."

His friend trotted off, the bag of cookies partially forgotten for the moment as he skimmed the shelves with interest. Wondering absently what made him say yes so quickly (maybe it was a gut reaction, or a split-second thought that skipped the "debate" process and went strait to his mouth; either way, it was troublesome. His brain kept doing things it shouldn't be doing, without even consulting him beforehand. Jeeze, how rude was that?), he took the chance to look around the store.

It was one of those small, no-name places that sort of reminded him of a few collector stores he'd come across on the East side, with all the odds-'n'-ends lined up on the shelves. In here, there were tacky book cases held up with crusty glue and chipped nails huddled in rows and along the walls, each one host to several books that didn't seem to be the same height and width (how troublesome). Fake plants were set in the corners of the shop, a rather dusty one sitting up on the counter next to the cash register, and a total of three, ratty, old rugs had been sprawled out on the beaten-down carpet, though they were wrinkled and dingy from the feet of passerbys. A few, strangely dressed people were browsing the shelves, plucking out books with utter randomness, and the thin, little man behind the counter stood nodding his head along to the music blasting from his ear buds. On that same counter, hidden slightly under the sprawling fake-leafy canopy, sat a very large, very _fluffy_, Himalayan cat, it's bright blue eyes peering out from the shadows with undeniable skepticism. He snorted to himself. _Troublesome cat_.

But . . . . . this place was sort of nice. Like a good nap or a cloudy sky. Pleasant. Probably.

He strolled forward, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and trailed after Chouji, who'd wandered near a cluster of book shelves off to the right labeled "fiction". The larger boy was blinking curiously at the titles, his hand moving almost systematically from the bag to his lips, his jaw chewing in rhythm to his hand gestures like the gears of a clock. Quietly, he stopped behind him, looking over his shoulder at the book titles lined up along the shelf. He didn't recognize any of them, but he didn't read very much to begin with, so it wasn't that surprising. Chouji pulled one book off the shelf and flipped it over to read the paragraph on the back.

"'_From the best-selling author of I know What You Did Last Summer'_," read Chouji slowly, "'_They only planned to scare their English teacher. They didn't mean to kill him. But sometimes even the best laid plans go wrong.'_" He furrowed his brows at the book, dark eyes squinty with thought. Shikamaru shrugged.

"Sounds a bit morbid."

"It does, doesn't it?" He set the book back on the shelf.

"Yeah, something that Sasuke or Gaara would read. Maybe even Kankuro."

Chouji stiffened, darting his eyes over his shoulder to look back at him guiltily. There was an uneasiness in his posture, an uncertainty in the way he fumbled with his cookie bag as he moved down the line of books for some other novel, one of which he hoped to be more light-hearted or humorous and not some sort of account on the killing of a teacher. He followed after leisurely, not at all concerned with his friend's sudden change of mood.

"I'm—I'm sorry, for not saying anything to them at lunch," apologized Chouji softly. For a moment, he didn't say anything, trying to remember what Chouji was talking about before even daring to reply. Then he grinned and slung his arm over the boy's shoulder.

"Nah, I'm glad you didn't say anything. I don't need that lot ragging on me for being some supper-genius or whatever. I mean, did you see how they acted with Itachi? Trust me, I don't need that."

"But, they said you're too lazy to do any good—!"

"Yeah, I am lazy, so what? That doesn't mean I'm stupid. You know that."

"Yeah, but—"

"But what?"

"B-but, well," Chouji stammered, scrambling to put together something to say, "doesn't it make you mad? To know they think you're stupid or useless?"

"No. Why should I? I don't care about what they think." He couldn't help but smile and laugh. "Hell, they could think I've got the IQ of a freakin' _pigeon _and I still wouldn't care." Chouji smiled weakly back.

"Then you're a lot stronger than me."

"It's got nothing to do with strength."

"Then what's it got to do with?"

"The space between your ribs."

Chouji furrowed his brow in confusion, trying to understand what he meant. He knew that what he said didn't make much sense to him, but Chouji would figure it out; Shikamaru knew he would. He just smiled, plucking a book from the shelf and handing it to Chouji.

"Here. I've read this book before, I think. It was pretty good."

Chouji read the title. "_The Cay_?"

"Yeah."

"Well, okay. What's it about?"

"Hmm . . . . . I can't remember."

Chouji laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll get it."

He tucked the book under his arm and brushed his fingers clean of crumbs before rolling up his cookie bag and stuffing it in his book bag. They wove out of the shelves to the cash register where the tiny man stood bobbing his head to his music. Chouji set the book on the counter and started to fish around his pockets for some money to pay for the paperback.

The man behind the counter sighed and removed his ear buds, music still blasting from it (it sounded sort of like Korn, or maybe System of a Down, but he couldn't really tell). While he waited for Chouji to get his money out, the little man started to pet the cat, who's eyes narrowed as a low grumbled emitted from its throat. Quickly the man retracted his hand, rolling his eyes and muttering grumpily to himself.

"I take it that cat isn't yours."

The man gave him a really sarcastic look, one that said: "Well _duh_, you idiot." Shikamaru didn't pay any attention to it, instead blinking over at the cat. Said cat blinked back, that low grumble still exerting from its throat. Almost unconsciously, he reached out to touch the cat, but the feline swatted at him with a set of _very_ sharp claws, and he decided to keep his hands in his pockets for the remainder of the visit.

"Yeah, the damn thing keeps doing that to me, too. I don't know what the hell it's problem is. I'm the one freakin' feeding it," complained the man. Looking at his name tag, he noted that his name was Kohaku. Amber? Hm. Odd.

"Who owns him?"

"_She_," he said with a smirk, "is owned by this tennis geek who's, I dunno, out of town for some tournament or something. His parents and friends are going with him so he asked my little sister to watch him and now I'm left to take care of the damned furball."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. This'll be $7.69 with tax," he said to Chouji, who'd dumped a few crumpled bills and a fuck load of change on the counter. Frowning, the Akimichi started to count up his money, muttering numbers to himself as he did so.

"When does shift start?" he asked, looking up at the clock behind Kohaku's head.

"3:30," answered Chouji absently.

"P.M.?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're gonna be late."

"Shit!"

Several minutes and a near miss with a car ("Holy shit! Get the fuck outta the road!" "We're on the freakin' sidewalk, you druggie!") later, they were standing behind the counter at _Vega's_, listening to Kabuto scold them for being five —count 'em, _five_— whole minutes late.

"I know it's getting close to the holidays and your shift starts right after school lets out, but you can't just show up late and expect to get full pay for it. I'm docking it by a dollar, understand?" He glared at the both of them, eyes narrowed angrily. "Don't do it again."

"Whatever you say, Kabuto," sighed Shikamaru, leaning back against the counter. Kabuto frowned at him, not at all happy with his laid-back attitude.

"Kinuta is already in the back making coffee. I suggest you join him, Akimichi." Chouji scuttled away, casting another apologetic look over his shoulder at Shikamaru before disappearing behind the cloth door. The grey-haired college student turned to him, hands on his hips like some sort of Hollywood mom; maybe he should laugh. Nah, that would be troublesome.

"What the _hell_, Nara? Showing up late like that? It's fine when it's just you who gets in trouble, but don't go dragging Akimichi down with you. You're such a spoiled brat, you know that?"

He would've liked very much to open his mouth and tell his damned manager that it wasn't his fault they were late. That it wasn't his laziness or inattentiveness that had forced them to run the whole goddamn way here. If he opened his mouth, if he started to talk, he was sure he could make Kabuto believe that it was actually _his_ fault. That Kabuto was to blame for them being late because he didn't pay them enough, or for making them work so long only for minimum wage when the older boy got almost double their paycheck. If he opened his mouth, he could convince him of anything, and Kabuto would believe it.

But he didn't.

And he had no fucking clue why.

"Get it now? Don't be late again."

"Whatever, Mr. Yakushi."

He turned around to rest his elbows on the counter top and glared moodily out the window at that small sliver of blue between the buildings.

_What a fucking bad day,_ he thought.

* * *

He yawned again, a small tear appearing at the corner of his eye as he stretched his mouth wide enough to engulf a watermelon. A stiffness had spread throughout his body, weakening his joints and giving him a burning pain that pulsated up and down his back and spine (maybe it was time for a new mattress. Ha, like he could even afford one). Damn, it was so freakin' early. Ugh. Mornings were _not_ his favorite time of day, that was for sure. Why was he awake so fucking early again? 

Oh yeah. School.

After he and Chouji had parted ways at the stairs, he'd been slowly trudging up the steps with all these students pouring in around him like salmon in a stream, trying and yet not trying to reach his next class (AP English). To be honest, he wasn't all that thrilled about going to English. Or rather, he wasn't too thrilled about going to a class taught by Anko, who threw chalk at his head when fell asleep during her speeches and made him do more work than any of the other students. That was _so_ annoying. And troublesome. Like these goddamn stairs. Seriously, would it kill them to put in a freakin' elevator?

Luckily, though, he hadn't seen Itachi at all that morning. Nor had he seen Sasuke, Kankuro, Haku, _or_ Shino. Naruto hadn't been absent (neither had Gaara, who'd taking to shadowing the blonde like some sort of bodyguard) and Kiba had become much more energetic and unruly in the absence of the bug-boy. Sai had popped up around the Old building, reading a book while he managed to walk around about 1,000 different students, and he was sure he'd seen Zabuza practicing out on the field with the other football players (including Kisame. How was he _not_ surprised?). To add icing to the cake, Sakura, Ino, Temari, and Tenten were all out for the day because of a volleyball competition held at a rival school. This day might _actually_ be a quiet one for once.

Stepping into Anko's classroom, he barely registered the clump of students huddled around the center of the room, all talking quickly and excitedly to one person in particular. Anko wasn't in yet, the dry erase board clean and blank, so he took the chance to slip into a much needed nap at his desk, head buried between his arms and his body lax. The sunlight pouring in through the windows warmed his back, and he could feel himself lulling into a sort of trance; not really asleep but sure as hell not awake, either. That was always a good place to be.

The door was thrown open, allowed to slam against the opposite wall and scare the shit out of the class, including him. His head snapped up and he glared blearily at a smirking Anko, who looked far to pleased with her feat to be an accident. Damn woman. Always interrupting his naps.

"Alright, ya gerbils," she called (_gerbil?_ Who the hell is she calling a gerbil?), smirking out at all of them from where she stood behind her desk, arms crossed in that authoritive way. The band of kids in the center parted slightly, allowing whoever was sitting within them to face the teacher. He still couldn't see who it was, but then, he didn't really care, so he kept his reproachful gaze on his teacher.

"We've got a new addition to our class, though I'm sure all of you remember he from years prior, so I'll just get on with it. Everybody give a warm welcome to Itachi Uchiha!"

Oh _fuck_.

"Ah, thank you Ms. Anko for your adoring introduction," said Itachi, rising up from among the other students to stand to his full height (which was kind of pitiful, actually, since he barely overcame the heads of the people sitting down). He could feel a lump of who-the-hell-knows-what slide down his throat to plop into his stomach in the most sickening manner. _Holly fucking shit._

"Hey, it's nothing for my best student, right Uchiha?" laughed Anko. "Oh, but you probably haven't met our newest student yet, Shikamaru Nara. He's the one with the pony-tail."

"Actually, we've had the pleasure of meeting the previous day," informed Itachi.

"Unfortunately," he grumbled to himself.

"Of course, of course," said Anko, waving her hand dismissively. "I should've guessed. Well, anyway, enough with the chitchat, let's get down to business!" She was way too happy for it to be legal, and he was sure that it was drug induced (caffeine or cocaine; either one would fit). This was all so very whacked out, so very unpleasant, that he was sure he'd hurl right then. God_dammit_ . . . .

"Ah, Ms. Anko, where should I sit?" asked the older Uchiha with false inquisitiveness. He knew it was false because he'd heard the tone far too often (though Itachi's was better hidden than most) to not recognize it. Itachi was play suck-up; he was planning something.

"Er, you can sit with . . . . . hm, how about next to Nara? Maybe you can get that bag o' bones to actually _do_ something for once. I have a hell of a time just keeping him awake." She and a few of the other students laughed at that, though a few jeered, and he decided that this day officially sucked. Not that it hadn't before, but now it was official.

"Thanks," replied Itachi, moving away from his fan club to steal the seat beside Shikamaru's for himself. It had been occupied for most of the first month of school, but just as they came into October, the girl (Kagome something-or-other) started to only show up about once every two weeks, and sometimes not even then. According to school gossip, she was in the hospital with four broken bones (last time it had been herpes, which turned out to be a false alarm, and the time before that it had been a skull fracture, and the time before that she'd gotten hepatitis. There was something up with that girl, he was sure, but it just wasn't worth thinking about). At any rate, it was open for other students, and for once in his life, he wished that the odd, panic-prone girl had actually been at school today.

"Pleasure seeing you again," greeted Itachi with that same sugary-sweet voice that made him sound like some sort of soap-opera actor. Oh, he _hated_ that tone.

"'Pleasure' isn't the word I would've used."

"Well, what word would you have used?"

"'Fuck'."

Itachi's lips curled into a smile, his eyelids dropping to cover half his eyeballs (he looked like a cat, or maybe a snake), and chuckled slightly.

"You're just full of optimism, aren't you?" He sighed, resting his head on his arms as he stared at the Uchiha from out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't you have someone else you can annoy? Friends, Sasuke . . . Orochimaru's snakes?"

"Ow, that hurt."

"Suck it up, pansy."

"Don't be such a prick. I was only trying to make conversation," said Itachi cooly.

"I don't want conversation. I want you to leave me alone."

"Where's the entertainment in that?" He glared over at him.

"There's isn't any. Now go away."

"I can't. We're in the middle of class."

"Then shut the hell up and let me sleep."

"Again, where's the—?"

"Shut. _Up_."

He kept his head firmly buried in his arms for the rest of the period, forcing himself to not look up or shift while Itachi's goddamned eyes smoldered holes into his temple. Anko's voice provided background noise for the steady tap of the Uchiha's pencil and his own forced breathing, which would start to quicken when he wasn't paying attention to it. God damn Itachi. God damn _fucking_ Itachi. Why the _hell_ did he have to be so freakin' troublesome?

A pebble of chalk struck his head, followed by the clatter of it falling to the ground, and he wondered vaguely if there was any way to simply disappear and just not _be_ here. There wasn't, of course, so he raised his head just in time to catch Anko's follow-up comment.

"Oi, Nara, are you paying attention back there?"

"Yeah, yeah I am."

"Well, your desk doesn't have all the answers so keep your eyes on me, okay?"

"Okay."

Itachi wouldn't stop snickering the whole 48 minutes left of class.

* * *

"Oh come on, he can't be _that_ bad." 

"Trust me, he is."

They were sitting in the chess parlor on the East side, Asuma playing black and him playing white. Asuma had for his prisoners three pawns and one bishop; Shikamaru had two pawns, a knight, and a rook. Lunch had yet to be ordered. It was very obvious who would win.

"Maybe you're just overreacting."

"Trust me, I'm not."

"Well then, you've got one hell of a problem on your hands."

"You don't think I know that?" His voice came out louder than he'd intended.

"Don't get upset, Shika," replied Asuma smoothly, moving his pawn. "I'm just trying to help."

"Sorry." Glaring at the board, he moved his rook so as to take out the offending pawn. Asuma took a drag of his cigarette, studying the board thoughtfully before speaking.

"It's just that, he doesn't seem like that bad a guy . . . ."

"Appearances can be deceiving."

"What, are you turning philosophical on me all of a sudden?"

"No, I'm just stating the obvious."

"Ah."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"That's a tough one, Shika. I guess it depends one what you want to accomplish."

"Give me a 'for-instance'."

"Well, for instance, if you wanted him to be your enemy, make yourself a threat. Become the best at whatever it is he loves being."

"Too troublesome. And I don't want to be his enemy so much as I just want him to leave me alone."

"That one could be trickier," admitted Asuma, exhaling a plume of smoke slowly. "And since the only people I don't want to talk to are already dead or are my roommate, there's really nothing I can help you with on that."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at the older man, his lips quirking into a smile. "You don't like Raidou?"

"Not really, no. He's loud. _Really_ loud. I can understand why Genma wanted him out," Asuma said, smiling as he shook his head.

"I thought Genma kicked him out because they broke up."

"Hey!" snapped Genma from behind the counter, revealing that he had, in fact, been eavesdropping on their conversation. "Don't go spreading rumors about my love life! And where'd you hear that, anyway?"

"You and Isamu were talking about it a month ago," he told him, laughing along with Asuma. Genma scowled, blushing slightly, and gnawed at his toothpick incessantly. Apparently Shikamaru wasn't supposed to know about that.

"I heard he's already got another boyfriend," gossiped Asuma teasingly, taking a drag of his cigarette. Shikamaru played along, leaning forward and grinning as if he were listening in on a juicy secret.

"Hey!" yelped Genma.

"Really now? Who?"

"I told you two, shut up!"

"Well, he's kind of young, a bit on the small side, and he works at—"

"Fuck it Asuma, if you say one more word, I'm spilling about that "pretty little thing" you want to fuck in your bed!" threatened Genma furiously, leaning over the counter to glare heatedly at Asuma. The look wasn't very powerful, since his cheeks were as red as tomatoes, but Asuma quieted almost instantly.

"Alright, alright, truce," conceded Asuma, raising his hands in defeat. Genma nodded curtly, leaning back to rest his body in a supposed-to-be-relaxed position and returned to his magazine. Asuma clucking his tongue, looking back down at the board as he let out a breath of smoke.

"What's this "pretty little thing" Genma was talking about?" he asked curiously, forcing back a smile. _Ha ha, Asuma had a girlfriend,_ he thought to himself.

The older man blushed, sending him a scowl (another, much nastier, look sent Genma's way) before saying, "I'm not going to tell you that."

"Why not?"

"'Cause you'll— I don't know, you'll try and screw it up."

"How?"

"I don't know, maybe you'll try and sabotage her office, or try and set us up on a date, or tell your friends about her." He smirked.

"So it's a she."

"That's not funny, Shika."

"Depends on what side of the table you're on."

"Kid's got a point," piped Genma.

"Stay outta this," ordered Asuma irritably.

"Why would I sabotage her office?"

"Because you're crafty enough you won't need the janitor's key to get in, or her's."

"I don't even know where she works."

"Yes you do," cut in Genma.

"Shut up Genma."

"Sorry Asuma."

"I promise I won't tell anybody, or try and set you up on a date, and I won't sabotage her office," he promised. Asuma didn't look at all convinced, his dark eyes searching his critically as he tapped his cigarette ashes into the ash tray.

"No."

"Spoil sport."

"Don't I know it."

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	9. Sleep Over

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Gaara x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, attempted suicide, and incest. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you.

* * *

_

_SLAM!_

_Fuck this_, he thought, storming across the front yard to the sidewalk as fast as he could. _Fuck it all to hell._

Dimly he heard the thud of his shoes hitting the concrete, his angry footsteps pounding into the ground with unusual force. The streetlights were partially broken with only a few of them still working, and the crumbling, towering, living complexes crammed along the edge of the street emitted little to no light from their windows. A few cars rolled down the street (some barreling at pedestrians that had so _foolishly_ stepped onto the cross walks when given the green light), though the streets were conveniently vacant of anything else. As he left his neighborhood for the inner city, the very atmosphere changed in an instant.

What had once been stifling silence was now a wailing, blaring, vibrating jumbled mass of noise and color, all of which blended together to form some resemblance of human life. The clamor of voices, the pound of feet on cement, the rumble of rolling metal boxes over worn-down asphalt, were all reverberating throughout the tangled web of skyscrapers, each of which were flashing brilliant, eye-blinding lights; the glare of street and store lights climbing up the walls of brick and metal like hungry mouths, clawing at the expanse of metal with little strain, seemed almost alive. Humans and cars alike sped along their respected roadways, crossing paths only under the guidance of bright green or red lights.

Everything was the picture perfect image of a thriving metropolis, the kind of place used to describe the end result of a boom in technology. It was a city used for the backdrop of some action/adventure futuristic movie, where the main character must use the huge advances in human technology to save the world from mind-controlling robots, only to find that he's a robot himself, and thus is killed. Above all else, though, he could not find it in his mind to applaud whatever power-obsessed colossal _maniac_ who had developed this damned place, then dared homo sapiens to _live_ in it.

He shoved his fists into his pocket quickly, hissing out a cloud of hot, steaming breath. Unwillingly, he shivered, pulling his coat closer to his body to ward away the chill of late night November air, and blinked his eyes forcibly in an attempt to clear then (since when had they gotten so wet?). The sky was dark with heavy clouds, gloomy and grim as was fitting for a Thursday. Somehow the day had always held a sense of glumness that hovered in the background like a misplaced shadow, the kind of darkness that had no reason for being, yet was. Then again, he may just be reading too far into his own premonitions— or he'd just spent too much time at home on Thursday nights. Griding his teeth, he kicked out randomly at a trash can, ignoring the startled looks he got.

Tonight would _not_ be one of them.

Shoving his hands further into his pockets, he strode down the sidewalks, brushing past flocks of people with unnatural ease (the people just seemed to scoot out of his way, as if they knew they shouldn't touch him, though quite of few of them didn't seem to have gotten the memo). Somehow he couldn't quite determine how far or fast he was walking, or if the person he'd just slammed into was the first or the thirtieth. His head was bowed, back stiff and arched, his shoulders bent to cover his ears, unconscious shivers rolling through his body like waves in the sea. The feeling that had flooded and choked his mind did nothing to ease the stinging pain in his chest (nor his pride, what little of it that was left), leaving him with a sickeningly empty gut that squirmed and wriggled in his abdomen.

And it _hurt _like_ hell_.

A part of him was burning with repressed rage, snarling to be let out to reek havoc on the unsuspecting public. It wanted to brake and maim anything and everything it could get it's hands on, squeeze until there was no life left to kill, break until the pieces of pieces of pieces were nothing but specks of dust in the wind. That part of him wanted to scream and shout and _hurt_ until there was nothing left to be mad about.

"Stop being such a melodramatic fool," he snapped to himself. "You're starting to think like Gaara."

It probably wasn't the best idea to be talking to himself out loud, since the streets were literally packed with people who were all pretty much within ear shot of him. Not that he cared much about that at the moment; he was much more preoccupied about where he was going to stay for the rest of the night. He sure as hell couldn't go back to his house (no _shit_, sherlock), but that meant he was going to have to _ask_ someone if he could sleep at their house. And they, in turn, would ask why. He couldn't exactly answer that question.

So who _could_ he stay with?

There was always Asuma, which had been his first candidate the last time this had happened, but he knew that if he crashed on his teacher's couch too often, not only would Asuma get suspicious, but so would the man's neighbors, and he didn't want to cause trouble for him (he may be only 15 but he wasn't stupid; he knew _exactly_ what went on in the perverted mind of that lady in 17D). With Asuma out of the running indefinitely, it left him with Chouji.

This wouldn't be the first time he'd gone to the Akimichi's for help, but that didn't mean he felt any better about it. It seemed almost impolite (mostly because it _was_) to just drop in on their home without so much as a warning call, and he couldn't really be sure that Chouza Akimichi would permit him to stay. Sure, the good-natured man had been very willing the last time, but what if his view had changed? If Chouza wouldn't let him stay, where was he supposed to go?

Without realizing it, he had stumbled out of the inner city and was now striding into Uptown. It was a beautiful place, really, full of vibrant and lush touches of life and wealth— or so said their pamphlet, found at any airport within the country. But like any lie, there was a speck of truth. Uptown really _was_ beautiful.

The streets were wide and well maintained, the medians separating the opposing lanes growing neatly trimmed trees and brush, with small plots of flowers every few meters. The stores and restaurants that framed smooth walkways were alight with a warm, inviting glow, tempting the few side-street walkers into their midst with the promise of exquisite goods and warm food. Night clubs pulsated with music and multi-colored lights, sending chest-rattling vibrations through the ground continuously (more so than the passing convertibles and mini-coopers, from which ripples of sound shot out of expensive sound systems), and the few places where there was outdoor eating, the bright white Christmas lights that laced the foliage and cast iron fences twinkled brilliantly with all the gusto of stars.

It was, without question, a stark contrast to the bustling, hard-edged, metal beehive that was the inner city. While there were brick and metal buildings, there were also stone and glass (of all the ridiculous things to make a building) structures that rose up one to twelve stories— but no more. The buildings never grew higher than the designated twelve levels, and the Hyuuga's would be damned if they let anyone even _try_ to step outside their set boundaries. Everything was kept in an order that was reminiscent of an ant colony, with the privately-paid City Cleaning Crew (the CCC) taking immaculate care of the city streets and parks, for which he was mildly thankful for (the Uptown park was absolutely gorgeous, but it was so packed with people most of the time that it made a pour choice for cloud watching).

As he reached the end of a stretch of sidewalk, he noted the street signs above the traffic lights. If he was to spend the night at Chouji's, he was going to have to get to the boy's neighborhood first. With a quick glance down the street, he took a right and strode down a different (but no more lively) lane that led him closer to the living complex he knew the Akimichi's inhabited. It was on this street where the impressive Glass Mask Theater and Highlife Restaurant resided, both of which were the proud jewels that made Uptown so marvelous. The Glass Mask Theater was an old-fashioned type of theater, with a stage and orchestra pit placed in the vast room in such a way as to exert sound into every pore of the air when in full use. It was a very old building, though not neglected in _any_ way, but definitely a landmark in the eyes of the tourists and residents of the city. The Highlife Restaurant was also a birthplace of life for Uptown, in that it was the most successful and high-ranking five star restaurant in not only _this_ city, but the twenty-four _other_ big cities in the whole freakin' _country_.

It also happened to be where Chouza Akimichi worked.

Both buildings were brimming with life, proving that neither enterprise was willing to put an end to the day just yet, and that Chouza would not be home to stop his unexpected appearance. Which was a good thing, he supposed, since it would be absolutely devastating if his father's best friend had turned him down.

Chouza and his father, Shikaku, had known each other since they had enlisted in the military at the raw age of 17, having been assigned not only the same bunk house, but the same training class/group/whatever-you-called-it, in the military. Apparently, they'd hit it off almost immediately and within a few days had become the best of friends. They'd enlisted in a time where they were at war with another country, so they'd been on the battle field and had seen both the devastation of warfare and felt the adrenaline rush of firing bullets at the enemy, though whether they'd been traumatized by it was never disclosed. After fifteen years of serving their country, they'd both retired and had moved to this city, where they bought pleasant little houses on the South Side. During their years of service they'd met their wives-to-be, and had married with the intent of children (thus resulting in his and Chouji's existence).

Of course, like anything, tragedy had to strike. And boy, did it strike.

When he and Chouji were eight (four years after their fathers had left service), their parents had gone to the Glass Mask Theater and dinner, leaving them with a babysitter. Everything had gone smoothly at first, just like it did every night previous, and their parents had all left dinner at the usual time like clockwork. Only, on their way home that Friday night, a car full of drunks ran a red light and smashed into not only their parents car, but two other cars as well. It was the busiest night for the emergency room, and it was known as one of the deadliest crashed of the decade by the newspapers and tabloids. Six people had died— including Shikamaru's father and Chouji's mother.

The funeral had been quiet and sorrowful, as was the nature of funerals, and the sermon had been soft, short, and direct; something he couldn't help but attribute with his father. Shikaku had always been a calm, gentle person, the type of guy that would stop and give someone directions or let the person cursing a malfunctioning payphone borrow his cell phone to make their call. When he'd been little, Shikaku would take him to the park and attempt to play catch or tag with him, but every time Shikamaru would flop down on the grass and fall asleep. Chouza and his wife had found it funny, since even Chouji was more active than he was, but Shikaku would just smile and lie down next to him, talking mildly about anything that came to his head in that soothing voice of his.

_Damn_, he missed those days.

Yoshino had taken one hell of a hit, though, and for a while she would drown herself in alcohol in the attempt to get away from it all. For days at a time she would just lie on the couch with that damned beer bottle in her hand, hair unwashed and black smudges under her eyes. Even at eight, he knew that something was horribly wrong with his mother, but he had no idea how to fix it, even if there was a cure, and slowly the woman started to unwind. First she lost her job, and she had to get a different, lowering paying one. Then she lost the house, and they had to move to the East side where housing was cheaper. Next came the constant bouncing between jobs as she continued to drink herself into oblivion and miss her shifts.

That's when _it_ happened.

Some time after his tenth birthday, his mother stopped drinking beer after work and would start cleaning instead, like she used to do. She wasn't nearly as pleasant or teasing about it, though, and he usually found himself being yelled at for not picking up his shoes or putting away his clothes like he'd been told to. It certainly wasn't enjoyable, but she had pulled herself out of whatever rut she'd thrown herself into and he had to be thankful for _that_, if nothing else. At least she didn't lock him out of the house anymore.

Of course, there was a reason for her sudden change in mood, and that reason was his current father, or "step-father" as the term went, by the name of Nori. He still could not understand the frame of mind which told him to call that hulking piece of shit a father, but he blamed it on the man's constant insistence that Shikamaru referred to him as such. The marriage had come along much faster than what was considered sane, but his mother had been happier while they were dating, so Nori couldn't have been _all_ bad, his ten-year-old brain had figured.

Wrong.

After the official documents had been handed in and made legal, everything changed. Two weeks into the marriage, Nori started yelling at Yoshino, spitting and snarling in her face about stupid things, like cold turkey and unfinished laundry. Unable to do anything about it, he had been forced to simply hide behind nearby furniture when Nori started yelling, pulling his knees in close to his chest as he listened to the bastard cuss out his mother. In three weeks she had started drinking again, which only served to piss Nori off even more, and alcohol was banned from the house. The dipshit had the nerve to blame this act of rashness on "think of the child!"

It didn't take long for Nori to loose interest in yelling solely at Yoshino, which is where Shikamaru suddenly became the man's newfound punching bag. If it weren't for his damned job (which brought in less than _half_ of the money used to support them), he was sure that a small bruise every other Thursday or Sunday night would be _nothing_ compared to what the man was capable of when given a long enough amount of time. Yoshino wasn't any help in the matter, either; she didn't even seem to _care_ that this was happening, having taken to leaving the room when Nori rounded on him with a curled fist.

_And they wonder why I'm not home more often_, he thought bitterly.

The noises around him had dimmed to a dull roar, his footsteps echoing loudly in the well-kept street as he made his way to Chouji's address. Iron lamp posts sprouted up from the sidewalk every few feet, casting about a blurry circle of yellow light on the pavement, bending only so as to accommodate his shadow. It didn't take very long for him to reach his friend's residence, and as he halted at the start of the front walkway, he gazed upon the structure with quiet eyes.

The Akimichi house was just as he remembered it: huge, tall, window-filled, and brightly lit, with level, neatly trimmed brush and grass, and artfully placed trees and flowers dotting the vivid green lawn in an unobtrusive way. The driveway was empty, though the garage doors were closed so as to bar access to its innards, and he took a guess that Chouza had yet to return during his brisk walk from the Highlife to the building before him. With a slight exhale (the cloud of steam hovering in front of his face a true testament to just how freakin' cold it was), he strode up the paved footpath to the large, stained-glass door.

Hesitantly, he knocked his knuckles against the wooden frame, shifting uneasily in the warm light that spilled from the house. A shadow shifted from behind the door and there was a soft click as the deadbolt was turned, followed by the snap of the door being pulled open.

Chouji blinked curiously at him, clearly surprised to find the Nara on his door step. He was dressed in a loose Beatles t-shirt and faded jeans that almost covered his fuzzy white socks. A half-full Twisler bag was held limply in a pudgy hand, something that Shikamaru found oddly comforting.

"What's up?" asked the shorter boy. There was a deeper question beneath his tone, but he chose to ignore it in place of a wry grin.

"Can I stay the night?"

Chouji blinked in surprise.

"Sure, come on in."

The door was opened wider and he stepped past the threshold into the warm, decidedly well-furnished, living room. All the important teenage necessities were gathered in this room, including, but not limited to, a plump couch, puffy chairs, a flat screen TV, a DVD player, mountains of DVDs, a lovely sound system, and quite a few well-place snacks displayed on the coffee table. A movie was flashing across the TV screen, the voices playing dim background noise to their greeting.

"You want something to eat?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Okay. I'm just watching a movie and snaking out. Not a lot of good shows on for Thursday, you know? All the good stuff is on Monday and Friday," he said, nodding towards the entertainment device.

"CSI isn't that bad," he said, following Chouji over to the couch where they both collapsed in ungraceful heaps on the soft fabric, "even if it is unrealistic and a bit morbid." Chouji laughed.

"The kind of show Gaara would watch, right?"

"Maybe. Except it might have too much science in it for him. Shino, though, I could totally see watching this. I mean, the leader guy —what's his name?— is an expert on bugs. That would _definitely_ draw his attention."

Chouji nodded in agreement, munching on a mouthful of Twislers and he swung his feet absently. Shikamaru reclined farther back into the soft cushions of the couch, watching through lazy eyes as the movie progressed (it wasn't one he recognized, but from the corny innuendoes and display of very bad teeth, he could only assume it was an Austin Powers movie). It was comfortably calm in the room, random laughter breaking out as Austin made another goof-up, this time in the form of trying to pull the "wig" of hair off an old lady. Suffice to say, it wasn't going very well.

"Do you think there really is a man on the moon?"

The question came out of no where, and he was ill prepared for it. Thus it was no surprise when he uttered a very undignified: "_Huhn?_"

"Is there really a man on the moon?"

He stared at his friend, who was staring quite plainly back, trying to get the damned turbines of his mind to start working again. The question had taken him totally off guard, and he felt rather stupid for letting such an out of place question knock over his pillar of thought as if it were just a mass of twigs on a blustery day.

"I guess it depends on what you constitute as a man."

"A human being."

"Then no." Chouji furrowed his brows curiously.

"Then what kind of man _would_ be on the moon?"

"A hypothetical one."

Chouji laughed, his eyes crinkling as a large smile split his face.

"What's a hypothetical man doing on the moon?"

"Looking for hypothetical cheese."

There was laughter again, this time accompanied by Shikamaru's own soft chuckles at his friend's obvious enjoyment. Still laughing, Chouji grabbed up the discarded bowl of popcorn off the coffee table and rested it on his lap as replacement for his suddenly nonexistent Twislers. He grinned over at the dark haired boy, giggling a bit as he tried to get his response past the tip of his tongue.

"If there can be a hypothetical man looking for hypothetical cheese on the moon, couldn't there also be a hypothetical mouse looking for that cheese too?"

"I don't see why not," he replied, grinning. Smiling was infectious whenever he was around Chouji; he simply couldn't help it.

"And if that's true, then wouldn't there be a hypothetical cat looking for that hypothetical mouse? And if so, shouldn't there be a dog to look for the cat that's looking for the mouse that's looking for the cheese?"

"Makes sense."

"Right, so if that's true, could it also be said that maybe there isn't any cheese there at all, and that the dog is just looking for a cat that's looking for a mouse that's looking for cheese that doesn't even exist?"

"Sounds possible."

"Wow." The boy sat back, ruffling his mused blonde hair and grinning. "I think I've just turned my brain to applesauce!"

They both laughed at this, Chouji gleefully grabbing up some popcorn to dump into his mouth. He reached across to take some popcorn from the bowl as well, but instead of dropping it all into his mouth, he tossed them up in the air and tried to catch them with his mouth. Naruto had tried to do the same thing with a handful of grapes that day at lunch (only managing to get two into his mouth and the other twelve on the ground), and he'd been rather curious as to whether he could fair better than the blonde.

As the popcorn forfeited to gravity, he tilted his head back to catch the small bit of heated corn seed. The popcorn, however, had other plans, mostly involving the avoidance of his gaping mouth to bounce harmlessly off his nose and fall into the folds of his clothes in a suspiciously mocking manner.

Muffled laughter erupted on his left, and he sent a scathing glare over at the Akimichi, who was trying vainly to hide his all-too obvious amusement.

"Oh can it. Let's see _you_ try," he grumbled challengingly. Chouji smiled just a tad wider, plucking a piece of popcorn from the bowl and tossing it in the air. The small bit of food fell straight into the other boy's open mouth. Scowling at the triumphant smirk sent his way, Shikamaru huffed, taking up another bit of popcorn between his fingers.

"Show off."

"Takes one to know one."

Scowl met smirk and Shikamaru was hard pressed not to burst out laughing. Gasping slightly, Chouji chuckled out:

"Do you think the meek will actually inherit the world?" What a random question.

"I dunno, but if they do, sheep herders better watch their back."

"Why?" snickered Chouji.

"'Cause "meek" and "sheep" go hand in hand, and if the sheep are going to inherit the world, they're not going to do it as herbivores."

They both burst out laughing again, and as Shikamaru fell back onto the armrest of the couch, Chouji got the flash of a brilliant idea. Well, maybe not brilliant, but sure as hell funny. Snatching the popcorn bowl from the other, he took a fistful of the snack and hurled it at the dark haired boy. There was indignant sputtering and Chouji had just enough time to vacate the couch before Shikamaru retaliated with a well-thrown pillow.

Laughing cheekily, Chouji dodged the next pillow and tossed some ammunition of his own, successfully lodging some of it in Shikamaru's hair. Leaping off the couch (grabbing a bag of M&M's as he did so), Shikamaru bounded after the Akimichi with a gurgled war cry, hurling M&M's with catastrophically poor aim.

And thus the food fight began.

Thirty minutes later, just as Shikamaru was running away from a suddenly food-laden Chouji, Chouza entered the house, his face flashing to blatant surprise as the both of them blew past him without so much as a glance. The hulking man stared after them with an utterly blank face, still trying to process why his son was missing his pants and his best friend was wearing socks and popcorn in his hair.

Taking a cautionary couple of steps, the older Akimichi stepped into the hallway, looking in both directions before hurriedly crossing to the kitchen. Inside said kitchen, he found an absolute mess, for which he had to clutch his heart dramatically and unhinge his jaw so as to let it clunk against the floor.

Everywhere in the room, there was food. Dumped and dropped and thrown all over the place in absolute mayhem, covering the counter tops, the floor, and the table, as well as the shinny pots hanging over a decidedly stickier stove —_why_ was there an empty maple syrup bottle lying on _his_ stove?—, and it took all the man's willpower not to drop in a dead faint.

The pound of feet on carpet was the only warning he had before Chouza was unceremoniously knocked over by not one but _two_ teenagers who were both very unbalanced on their bare feet. There was a crash as they collided, followed by a series of thwaks that came from their quite undignified fall to the tiled floor. Blinking dazedly up at the ceiling (lookit all the pretty lights . . . .), Shikamaru burst out laughing, joined quickly by Chouji and Chouza.

Still gasping for breath, the three of them climbed unsteadily to their feet, Chouji nearly falling back over twice, and attempted to regain their breath. Chouza was the first to do so, since he wasn't the one who'd been _running_ before laughing his head off, and he fixed the boys with a would-be-if-he-wasn't-smiling-so-broadly glare.

"What, _exactly_, were you doing to my kitchen?" he asked sternly, though the tone was inevitably ruined by the laughter that threatened to overrun his voice.

"Well, see, it all started when I threw some popcorn at Shikamaru, and then he threw M&M's—" started Chouji quickly, stiffling his laughter.

"No no, I threw a pillow at you before I threw the M&M's," corrected Shikamaru.

"Right, what he said. And then we started running around and then I ran out of popcorn, so I came back here—"

"Where you almost ran into the wall." Chouji sent him a sour look.

"—and I started to raid the fridge, which is when I found the whipped cream—"

"And the maple syrup."

"—which is when we started firing whipped cream at each other—"

"I was outnumbered, since he had two cans," defended Shikamaru.

"—but then we ran out of whipped cream and we found the cheese whiz—"

"Which is awesome stuff, by the way."

"—and then we saw the maple syrup and we sort of fought over it—"

"I almost won, too."

"—which in retrospect wasn't that good of an idea—"

"I would imagine," commented Chouza in a mock stern voice.

"—and the top _sort_ of came off and it just _might_ have gotten on a teeny_ tiny _bit of the stove—"

"That's when I went for the poptarts and he went for the raisins." Chouji rolled his eyes.

"—so anyway, we were firing stuff at each other, and then I slipped in a pile of whipped cream, which is why I took off my pants, and then the chip bag went flying into the other room and—" Chouji stammered to a halt, looking uncertainly up at his father and shuffling his feet bashfully.

"Are we in trouble?"

Shikamaru could tell that it took all of Chouza's metal power not to fall to the floor laughing after hearing their story, so he took a guess and assumed they were off the hook for this one. Sure enough, Chouza's "stern" face cracked and the man gave a deep chuckle, followed by a pat on Chouji's shoulder.

"No, you're not, but you _are_ doing the all laundry for the next two weeks, got it?"

Chouji smiled broadly, looking very much relieved. "Yes sir!" Chouza smiled at the both of them, withholding a spurt of laughter at realizing the socks on Shikamaru's head had yet to fall off. Shaking his head, he waved towards the staircase.

"Go take a shower, and go to bed. I assume you're staying the night, Shikamaru?" At his nod, Chouza smiled. "Then the futon in the hall closet is all yours. I'll have Mizuki clean all this up when she comes over tomorrow."

Feeling a small pang of pity for the Akimichi's maid, Shikamaru followed Chouji out of the kitchen and up into the second level of the large house. Chouji lent him a spare shirt and some sweat pants, allowing him to take a shower first while he set up the futon. A half an hour later, the both of them were climbing into their respected beds, Chouji switching off the light and casting the room in deep, bottomless shadows.

For a while there were no sounds, save the creaking of the foundation and the soft thuds of Chouza settling in for the night. All was serene and peaceful in the agreed silence of the night, which settled in around them like a flanel blanket. Shikamaru found himself quickly falling into the recesses of sleep, and just as he was about to leave his conscious state, Chouji spoke.

"What did Nori do?"

It was whispered quietly into the dark room, almost as if it were rhetorical, unintended for an answer. There was a long bout of silence, Chouji's dark eyes seeking out unusually reluctant ones. Keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling, Shikamaru answered.

"Nothing unusual."

He didn't like the way his voice echoed in the cluttered room, nor the way it stuck to his throat as if it didn't want to be said.

"Does it hurt?"

Those eyes never left him, and he couldn't help but meet the imploring gaze of the other as he responded in an equally soft voice.

"Not anymore."

Through the darkness he couldn't see it, but as Chouji muttered a soft "good night", Shikamaru could tell that the other was smiling.

"Good night, Chouji."

* * *

"It looks so gloomy outside," observed Chouji, peering out the dinning room window to the world outside.

"And wet," added Shikamaru sleepily, reaching absently for the milk. Apparently he'd forgotten that key ingredient when making his cereal. Go figure.

"Do you two need a ride?" asked Chouza, filling his mug with steaming coffee. Chouji looked over at his dad with a light teasing look and Chouza chuckled. Shikamaru let out a gaping yawn.

"But, if you drive us, you'll be late for work," Chouji said, seating himself at the table after taking another look at the rain spilling down the window pane. The older man waved his hand dismissively.

"That's alright. It'll give those confidence-ridden trainees something to do for once," said Chouza calmly, taking a hesitant sip of his coffee. At the scrunching of his nose, Shikamaru predicted the coffee being sweetened by _two_ spoons of sugar instead of one, along with just a dash of cream.

"But it's your job. I don't want you to be late . . . ." Chouji was looking guilty, as if he was torn between asking for a ride and insisting to walk in the rain. Shikamaru couldn't blame him, honestly, since he really didn't want to have to walk in that storm either. He half expected to see an ark sail down the street at any moment.

"Don't worry about it," soothed Chouza as he added two spoons of sugar to his coffee, followed by a small stream of cream from the creamer set on the table. "I can come in a few minutes late if it's to drop you two off at school. I _am_ head chef, after all."

"We could always ask Kankuro to drive us," spoke Shikamaru suddenly, blinking tiredly at his cereal as he, yet again, seemed to forget to add milk. How the hell did he manage that when the damned carton was in his hand? "He lives nearby, right?"

"Yeah . . . ."

Chouza smiled. "There, see? Problem solved." He took a sip of his coffee; it seemed to meet his sugary needs. Chouji didn't looked convinced yet. Shikamaru gave his friend a decisive stare.

"Look, he's not gonna get mad about it, Chouji. He's too easy-going to fuss over something like this, you know that. Besides, it's raining and, while I agree with not making your dad late, I'm _not_ walking in the rain."

Chouji sighed. "Fine. I'll call him."

He left the table for the phone resting in the living room, referring to the pad of phone numbers set on the same side table. Chouji made the call to Kankuro, his voice muffled by the insulated walls, while Shikamaru finally got to eat his cereal. Chouza chewed absently on his bagel (spread thickly with strawberry-flavored cream cheese) as he unfolded the (thankfully) dry newspaper. The cup of coffee placed gently on the table was still steaming and he fancied that he could feel the warmth of the liquid washing over him.

"Sleep well?"

"Yep. You?"

"I might have slept better if my stove hadn't been defiled by maple syrup . . ." teased Chouza with mock seriousness. Shikamaru smiled guiltily at the older man.

"In my defense, that could've happened to anyone."

"And yet, it happened to _you_."

"I stand by my statement."

"You're either the worst debater ever or the best lawyer in the world," laughed Chouza, taking a sip of his coffee. He frowned thoughtfully.

"I don't particularly like debaters."

"Lawyer it is, then."

Chouji returned, looking mildly amused as he seated himself beside Shikamaru. He sent him a questioning look, silently asking Chouji to elaborate. The Akimichi did so with a light air to his voice that belied the actual enjoyment he felt for the topic at hand.

"I asked Kankuro if he was a sheep."

"Oh? And what did he say?"

"He said that he'd take two of whatever I was smoking."

Shikamaru sputtered, laughing loudly as he tried not to knock over his cereal bowl. A raised eyebrow was shot their way, and Chouji and he tried to stifle their laughter by taking hurried sips of their drinks (orange juice for Chouji and apple for him). Chouza gave them a wayward look before redirecting his attention to his newspaper.

"When's he coming by?"

"He said he'd be here in thirty-five minutes."

"Good. I can finish eating."

Chouza left shortly after finishing his bagel, bidding them both a good day at school ("It _is_ Friday, after all."), before leaving in his now-wet SUV. They both finished their own breakfasts quickly, trading mild jokes between bites, after which they brushed their teeth and (in the case of Shikamaru) searched for a spare uniform for him to wear at school. It was a hard find, seeing as Chouji's room was about as unkept as his own, but a clean one was soon found sitting patiently on the bathroom counter (_how_, he had no idea, but he had an inkling that Chouza had something to do with it) along with a spare rain jacket. After they were dressed and ready, they retreated to the front window in the living room to wait for Kankuro.

Outside was a scene that had most definitely been taken from the flood story of the Bible: thundering rain dimpling foot-deep water to join the mass of rushing, churning water that had flooded the street, swelling up and swallowing huge expanses of concrete like the Blob. The sky above was hidden by a cover of dark, water-laden clouds that had yet to cease in its drenching of the inactive city. Everything seemed to have melted into a grey, messy puddle of colors, like when the chalk on a sidewalk is splattered with misplaced ice water and left to drizzle and drain down the pavement to the nearest sewer drain. A melancholy feel settled over the both of them, Shikamaru's yawns the only thing to accompany the rhythmic pounding of the rain and the timely beat of Chouji's swinging legs.

Chouji started as Kankuro's car appeared from the gloom. It was a nice car (able to hold nine people all at once) of indeterminate make and model, though now it was streaked with rain drops, its wheels churning up dirty water as it swept down the street.

"The pumpkin has arrived," mumbled Shikamaru lazily as he stood up. His shoulders popped as he rolled them out of stiffness.

"And yet I see no white mice," grinned Chouji, grabbing up his bag and umbrella as he approached the front door.

"That's irrelevant."

"It's totally relevant."

They stepped out onto the porch, pausing only to open the umbrella and lock up the house, before dashing to the car parked at the curb in a desperate attempt to escape getting wet. It didn't work out very well, since their shoes were quite a bit more moist than they'd been upon leaving the house, but the inside of the car was warm and dry, so the discomfort was quickly forgotten.

Sitting in the front driver's seat was Kankuro, wearing a dark burgundy coat and tie-dye scarf, with Gaara sitting next to him (near _dripping_ in black), and Naruto in the middle row, his bright orange parka as brilliant as ever on such a drab day.

"Good morning, gents!" greeted Kankuro happily, turning to see them with a smiling face. Shikamaru blinked, not quite sure if his eyes were deceiving him or not, and he almost forgot to buckle his seatbelt in his confusion.

"You're— you're not wearing any kabuki make-up!" exclaimed Chouji, staring wide-eyed at the Sabaku. Kankuro grimaced, turning back to face the road as he gave a short laugh.

"That obvious, is it?"

The car started rolling down the street, Kankuro taking them away from the sidewalk to surf the road-turned-river asphalt. Chouji blinked, not sure what he'd said wrong, and Naruto drew their attention with a wave of his hand. Gaara cast a dark look back at the blonde as he leaned forward to look at both of them, brow furrowing irritably as Naruto spoke.

"He's _reeeeaaalllly_ self-conscious about it," informed the hyper-active blonde with _far_ too much enthusiasm for both the topic of choice and the early hour of the morning (though it was only about 7:30). Shikamaru settled back in his seat, folding his arms over his abdomen as he tuned Naruto out. It was a relatively quiet drive through the pouring rain that left the residential area of Uptown unnaturally silent itself.

"You look fine without your face paint."

Kankuro blinked at him in surprise through the reflection in the rearview mirror. He didn't catch it, though, since as soon as the words left his mouth, he closed his eyes to settle into a light slumber.

At the sudden jolt of the vehicle stopping, Shikamaru blinked open his eyes, gazing blearily around him with an air of detachment. Vaguely his mind registered that this wasn't the school parking lot, but the front yard of a fairly large house staring out at him from the opposite side of the window. Chouji seemed to notice his (slight) confusion and answered his question.

"We're picking up Kiba, too."

"Ah."

It was a moment before the front door of the house banged open to expel a stumbling figure, bouncing shut with an echoing clang, allowing said figure to dash through the rain as he jerked on his coat. Once Kiba reached the side door, he threw it open and started to climb in, nodding his head obligingly towards Kankuro as he tried to catch his breath— then stopped short.

The look on the Inuzuka's face was quite utterly _shocked_ if not bewildered, and Shikamaru almost felt like smirking in a very Sasuke-ish way. He didn't, of course, but the expression on Kiba's face refused to change, and the rain was started to hit him through the still open door. It was almost embarrassing, really, to see the boy so blatantly taken aback.

"Stop ogling at him and get in the damn van," he snapped, pulling at the other boy's coat in an attempt to get him moving. Cheeks glowing red, Kiba scuttled into the car quickly, followed by the slam of the side door shutting and he buckled his seat.

"You're— you're not—not wearing you're kabuki paint," stammered out the dog-boy, his body leaning forward to rest his chin on the top of the middle seat. Kankuro shifted the car into drive, his warm brown eyes darting up to look at Kiba in the rearview mirror.

"Thanks for telling me— I might not have noticed otherwise."

Kiba's face flushed deeper, a scowl cutting itself across his lips, and with a decidedly disgruntled tone the freshman retorted, "Well sor-_ry_ for makin' an observation, _Kanky_."

"Dully noted," droned Gaara, not even bothering to turn around. Kankuro gave his brother a look, which was acknowledged by the other heatedly.

"Hey Kiba, why's your face all red?" asked Naruto with bright eyes. Kiba glared darkly at the blonde.

"No reason. It's just cold is all."

"I dunno, I think it's cause you _love_—" Naruto was cut short as Kiba shot forward and curled his hands around the sneaking-looking blonde's neck, his eyes flashing angrily. Gaara turned around almost instantly, landing pale, murderous eyes on the eccentric Inuzuka, as if daring the brunette to go through with his threat. In what was probably the wisest move he'd ever make in his life, Kiba retreated to the back seat, though bickering immediately followed, mediated by Gaara's occasional snap of "Shut up, Baka-inu".

He didn't get a wink of sleep the rest of the drive to school.

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


	10. English Project

**Title: **_Good Friend Chouji_

**Pairings:** _Shikamaru x (undecided), Gaara x Naruto, Haku x Zabuza, Kiba x Hinata, Neji x Tenten, Sasori x Deidara (more will be announced at a later date. Pairings will change.)_

**Warnings:** _child abuse, self mutilation, bullying, references to sex/sexual acts, homosexuality, underage drinking, attempted suicide, and incest. And stupidity, but that's a given._

**Author: **_Drinking Acid_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Naruto. If you hadn't figure it out until now, I seriously pity you.

* * *

_

If he'd thought the Uptown streets were rivers, the Konoha High School parking lot was an ocean. The whole paved area was engulfed in gritty rain water, the heavy flood choking the lot like a boa constrictor around a mouse. Several students and maybe even some teachers had forgone the entire _idea_ of parking at the school and opted instead to cluster on a higher elevated lot in front of the library across the street. Kankuro joined them, finding a small space between a beat-up Ford and a shinny new Volkswagen Bug to park his vehicle.

Chouji's umbrella came in handy as they made their way across the street to the school building, splashing rain water all over their pants and soaking their shoes and socks. The umbrella itself was fairly large, since it was Chouza's, but with all six of them trying to squeeze themselves under the water-proof canopy, it seemed almost useless. Shikamaru was very glad that he hadn't been forced to the edge like Kiba, though it was almost impossible to stand up strait with Chouji crushing him from one side and Kankuro from the other.

School, of course, had not been canceled in spite of the rain, and as a result, no late passes were excepted (it _was_ November after all, and these rains _hardly_ lasted _all_ day, according to that arrogant weatherman on the radio. Though it had already outlasted all the earlier predictions by about, like, _four freakin' hours_. Those damned weather-predictors just never learned, did they?). If any of the staff caught them late to class, they'd get detention, and while it would only be one day, it was _Friday_ and to serve detention on a Friday was damn well near blaspheme.

"Why the hell does it have to be so wet today?" complained Naruto irritably, shaking his wet feet like a cat.

"Maybe this is punishment for you trying to flip that girl's skirt the other day," smirked Gaara.

Naruto looked affronted.

"I wasn't trying to flip her skirt! I was . . . I was . . . I was trying to find that bug that was on her leg, that's all!"

"Sure. That's ex_actly_ what happened."

"Shut up raccoon-eyes!"

Once inside the relatively dry First building (the floors were sopping wet from the soaked feet of students passing through), the umbrella was folded back up and dragged along as they headed to their lockers. As luck would have it, their lockers were all relatively in the same direction, and so Naruto took it upon himself to provide entertainment on their way to their destination. Whether he knew it or not.

"So yeah, when I woke up this morning I heard all this rattling and at first I though it was Iruka trying to make breakfast when his hands were asleep, but then when I looked outside my window, it was raining!"

"How can you mistake rain for metal pots?" asked Kankuro skeptically, trying very hard not to say something nastier. For some reason, the middle Sabaku sibling was unreasonably short-tempered today. Maybe it was the absence of kabuki face paint. Or the rain. Whatever.

"Easy: loose your brain and get blonde hair," drawled Gaara, his eyes glinting humorously as Naruto rose to object in the loudest way possible.

"OI! What's wrong with my brain?"

"You mean besides being undersized and undernourished? Everything."

"Yeah! You're brain needs to get fixed!"

"There's nothing wrong with my head Dog-breath!"

"Uh, dingbat, the lab called: your brain's ready."

"Eh?"

"It's a joke, blondie."

"I knew that!"

"I highly doubt that, Dead Last," smirked Sasuke, appearing from seemingly nowhere. Naruto jumped and whirled around (having been walking backwards for most of the debate) to glare wildly at the smug Uchiha.

"Up yours, Sasuke-bastard!"

"No thanks."

"Screw you!"

"I'd rather not."

"Grrrr . . . . Go die!"

"You first."

Naruto looked ready to pull his hair out, and he was sure that if they were in some sort of cartoon the blonde would have steam coming out of his ears. For every insult he spouted, Sasuke had a retort, and this never ceased to aggravate Naruto to his very core.

"Good morning, li'l Uchiha," waved Kankuro, his smile widening slightly at the indignation on Sasuke's face. The smile faltered, however, when Sasuke froze, his eyes widening only a fraction as a sure sign of befuddlement, before slipping back into neutral.

"You're not wearing face paint."

"No, you think?" asked Kankuro sarcastically. Sasuke's lips twitched into a frown and he eyed the Sabaku with extreme skepticism. He looked rather like Itachi when he did that.

"What's the occasion?"

"Temari," was the answer given by an overly subdued Gaara. There was no elaboration, and so Kankuro was left to finish the explanation.

"Temari stole my face paint this morning and I couldn't find it before we left."

It wasn't a very good explanation, but Shikamaru didn't care one way or another, so he let the issue drop, even though the other's didn't. They, apparently, thought it was the strangest thing this side of the Pacific Ocean. He was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes.

"Temari's older than you, right?" asked Kiba suddenly, eyeing the Sabaku's with an oddly contemplative look on his face.

"Unfortunately," grumbled Gaara, continuing their parade down the hall. The rest of them followed, including an all-too eager Sasuke. A moment emerged where a claw of suspicion embedded itself in Shikamaru's mind, but it passed quickly and he let the boy's presence melt into the background.

"So, you're all blood related, right?" continued Kiba, becoming far too interested in the Sabaku family inner workings.

"Yeah . . . ."

"Then why does Temari have blonde hair, Gaara have red hair, and you have brown hair?"

There was a heavy pause, confused and pensive expressions crossing their faces. The look that sprouted over Naruto's looked horrendously painful and Shikamaru had to wonder if all their good-humored jibes actually had some basis of fact to them. He really hoped not; Naruto had too good a personality to let it be wasted on a lack of intelligence.

"Ya know, I never thought of that," said Kankuro after a while as he broke away to unlock his locker. There was a moment where Kiba paused, as if internally debating over some issue, before his tanned face flushed and he hurried on ahead, casting water about from his heavy footsteps. Naruto and Gaara continued on, and Sasuke lingered back, looking disgruntled as he glanced around at the loud, wet students that choked the hallways. He and Chouji moved on, making their way to their own lockers.

A junior from his AP English class came up suddenly, clapping him on the back and laughing. He resisted the urge to duck away from the older boy's hand.

"Oh man, Nara, you're never gonna believe this," laughed the junior (what was his name? Nakatsu? Katsuya? Ah, whatever) breathlessly, "Anko—Anko just went stormin' up the stairwell and she was all wet and dripping! She looked like a drowned cat! Haha!"

The image of a soaking wet Anko seething and scowling as she climbed the student-filled stairs was well worth laughing over. Although, in his imagination, Anko had cat ears and a tail that was thrashing around . . . and claws . . . and _fangs_ . . . . Shikamaru shivered. What a gruesome thought.

"Sounds hilarious," he replied.

"Oh, it totally was," laughed one of Nakatsu's friends, Noe something-or-other. "See ya in class." And they were gone, tromping away to wherever they were headed to.

"Since when have you been on speaking terms with Konoha High's best soccer player?" asked Sasuke far too smugly as he came up behind them. Apparently he'd been listening in on the conversation, and he had a very foreboding glint in his eye. _Damn_. He needed to tred cautiously.

"I'm an aid for Anko third hour and he's in that class. Our desks are fairly close, so it's not as if we haven't spoken to each other before."

He managed to keep his voice even and his pace steady, but he could see out of the corner of his eye that Chouji was twisting his fingers nervously, probably wishing for food. Sasuke's eyes darted over to the Akimichi, then back to the Nara, and he opened his mouth as if to speak before he was cut off.

"Pineapple head! Swirly cheeks! Duck hair! What's up, yeah?" Deidara came prancing up to them, beaming like the bloody-damn sun. The older student's hair was damp, and his clothes were dripping water, but he didn't seem to notice as he flounced along.

"Hey Deidara," grumbled Sasuke, looking annoyed at being referred to as "Duck hair."

"Oh! Oh! Duck hair, have you seen your brother?" asked the blonde, focusing his attention on the not-that-much-smaller teen. Shikamaru took his chance and used the distraction as a means to escape. He and Chouji reached their lockers and split ways to their first hour classes.

In the time it had taken for him to reach AP English, Anko had dried off relatively well and was standing at the front of the class with a god-awful look on her face. This was not going to be a _fun_ class period. Please note the sarcasm.

"Alright, you little water rats," snarled their teacher, her pupil-less eyes gleaming with barely suppressed malice, "it's raining, I'm wet, and I have to teach six more classes, so if you all just shut up, no one's going to get suspended, got it?"

No one dared answer.

"Good. Now, all of you know that for by the end of this year, since it is AP English, you'll have to write your own mini story, so to get you ready for that, I want you all to get in a group of three and work on some sort of story together. I've got a few requirements for your story's plot, but other than that, it's all up to your imagination. Now, about the groups."

She looked around at them all, her glare lessening slightly as the amusement of pairing her students up settled in. The sheer foreboding that erupted from that look was enough to send a charging bull squealing in the opposite direction. As her pale eyes landed on him, he knew he wasn't going to like this at all.

"Nara, you'll be working with Uchiha and Hyuuga, got it?"

_Aw, shit._

"Yeah, I get it."

"Good. Now, Nakatsu, since you work _so well _with Kujo, why don't you and Kayashima work with him? And Kenshin, you can work with . . ."

Itachi tapped his pencil against the shell of his ear and Shikamaru sighed heavily as he turned around. A pale smile greet him and obsidian eyes looked far too joyful to be trustworthy.

"Well, well, look at that," laughed the other quietly so as not to be caught talking, "we're partners."

"Whoopty-freakin'-doo," he growled, rolling his eyes. Why did Anko have it out for him? Did he somehow piss her off without knowing it? 'Cause this was getting a bit out of control. Seriously, _Itachi? _He _hated_ Itachi. The guy was such a conceited, egotistic, selfish—

"—and we'll work on it over there, alright?"

—still-talking-to-him-even-though-he-wasn't-listening-to-him jerk. Damn.

"Huhn?" he grumbled, slinging his arm over the back of his chair. Itachi tapped the end of his pencil disapprovingly on his forearm. He glared at him, only to have that damned smirk flashed right back.

"Tsk, tsk, Shikamaru. You really need to pay more attention to our project. I was saying that you could come over to my house and we could use my computer to type up anything we come up with. Do you have any objection?"

_Yes, I do. _"What about the Hyuuga? Aren't we supposed to work with him, too?"

"Neji won't have a problem with it," said Itachi with a delicate wave of his hand. "So, are you coming?"

He frowned, eyeing Itachi speculatively. Gut and intellectual instinct alike insisted that this was some sort of trick; like the Burmese tiger trap. Itachi lured him in with the project, and somewhere along the line he'd fall into a leaf-covered pit and onto a bed of sharp spikes. He weighted the odds, shifting in his seat as Itachi continued to stare. Go to the probably-plotting-something Uchiha's house, or stay at his own house until the rained stopped?

. . . Yeah, okay, so that was a no brainer. He sighed heavily, clenching his jaw.

"Fine. I'll go," he said finally. Itachi beamed slightly, tapping his pencil against his arm again (did he _have_ to do that? It was so annoying. And troublesome; it was _always_ troublesome).

"See? How hard was that?" Oh, he _so_ wanted to wipe that damned smirk of that prick's face.

"Go to hell," he snapped, turning back around to sleep on his desk. Itachi laughed lightly, the eraser end of his pencil jabbing him in the back of the neck before Anko drew everyone's attention back to the front of the room. Oh _god_ this was going to be such a bad day.

* * *

Something was wrong. He didn't know what yet, and he was a bit wary to find out, but he knew something was wrong. 

Kakashi had yet to appear, and thus the class had degenerated to its uproarious state that it donned for the first twenty minutes of class. Naruto and Gaara were having a paper-airplane throwing contest, and he could see Ino and Sakura having a mini cat fight in the corner. Chouji was sitting beside him, munching on a mysteriously obtained chip bag and scribbling on his Biology homework. However, none of these things were causing his misgivings.

Off to the right, just a few seats in front of him, he could see Kiba fidgeting in his seat. The dark-haired teen had draped his parka over his seat and was hunched over the desk top, his face angled towards Shino, who sat next to him. The bug-boy was perched unnaturally still beside him, his face utterly impassive as Kiba muttered softly to him.

The fact that the dog-boy was speaking quietly was weird all by itself, but the way they were sitting was odd too. Kiba was jittery, nervous, and uncontrolled, as if he were freaking out over something (why was his face so red?), but Shino was insanely calm, his stiff body placed a bit too close to the other's. The black-haired boy rested a (hesitant) friendly hand on Kiba's shoulder, replying in a droning voice that made Kiba's shoulders slump. Somehow, it didn't seem . . . as if they were just friends. It looked more like—

"Hello, class!" greeted Kakashi as he bounced through the door. "Sorry I'm late, see, I was trying to teach this lady how to get out of a Chinese finger trap and—"

"LIAR!" roared Naruto and Sakura, pointing accursedly at their silver-haired teacher.

Shikamaru's worries faded into the back of his subconscious as the class started to return to normal.

* * *

"You're going over to Itachi's right?" 

Shikamaru hesitated, not sure if he'd heard that right, before lifting his head out of his arms and yawning widely. Math was such a good class to nap in; Hayate never bothered him, though the same couldn't be said for the students, obviously. With bleary eyes he glanced over at his intruder, blinking up into pearly white eyes.

As was the trademark for the Hyuuga's, this person had perfectly white eyes that held absolutely no pupil. He didn't know _why_ they didn't have pupils, since it was one of the major components of an eye's functioning, but it worked well enough (they tended to get very good marks on vision tests). He was pale, with dark hair that came down past his shoulders, and if it weren't for his surprisingly deep voice, Shikamaru would've claimed him to be a girl (like he'd done with Haku before the sophomore had told Naruto otherwise; that had been a _very_ funny lunch session, by far).

"Hmm?" he murmured incoherently. The other glowered, looking quite a bit as if this were the last thing he wanted to be doing. Shikamaru fancied the thought of prolonging this conversation, just to get the other riled up. He seemed like the type of person to fall for something like that.

"Are you going to Itachi's tonight?" he asked again, an edge entering his voice. He resisted the urge to groan. _Damned Itachi . . . ._

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed, letting his head fall back onto his arms. This, of course, was not what the Hyuuga had wanted him to do. A hand slapped against his desk and he shot his head up, the vibrations ringing through his head as if a gong had sounded. Glaring up at him, Shikamaru leaned back, letting his arms wrap loosely around his waist as he surveyed his sudden disturbance.

"Yes? Can I help you?" he asked in a falsely curious tone.

"I have a cooperate party I need to attend tonight, so I won't be able to join you," said the Hyuuga briskly, his voice as cool as the pounding rain outside. "While Itachi will be sure to get a lot done, I'm warning you now: if you lower my grade with your lazy-ass tactics, I will personally skin and gut you and then hang you outside on the flag pole. Got it?"

An image of Gaara laughing manically flashed through his head, and Shikamaru wondered if maybe this guy and the red-head were somehow related. They were morbid enough, he could've believed it. Sighing, he shifted in his chair and met the Hyuuga's glare head on.

"What's your name?"

"Neji Hyuuga."

"Well, Neji, I wouldn't want to hurt your grade, so I'll promise you this: you and Itachi can work to your heart's content on this project and I won't get in your way at all. How's that?"

Neji glared. "In other words, you're going to let us do all the work."

"Hm, so you are a genius after all," he yawned, replacing his head in his arms and drifting seemingly instantly back asleep. He almost felt like smiling, but his unconscious state prohibited expressions, so he was left to blandly face his desktop. Neji didn't bother him after that (thankfully).

* * *

To say he was relieved would've been an understatement. 

A really, really _severe_ understatement.

He let out a contented sigh, slumping over slightly as he thanked whatever deity had taken pity on him. Beside him, Chouji was smiling with the same relief, munching away at a bag of mini cookies that he'd obtained sometime during his third hour. On his left, Naruto was pouting, the thought of not being able to run around in the rain like an idiot with a just cause putting a damper on his mood, while Gaara remained as unaffected as ever (he was probably jumping for joy internally; now he wouldn't have to worry about ruining his eyeliner).

Why were they all in such an array of moods? Why were they not dressed in their P.E. uniforms? Why were they all standing around the gymnasium? Why was Kureni looking so disappointed? Why was he bothering to ask _you_ any of this? Because it was raining (that didn't exactly apply to the last one, but whatever).

And they didn't have to go outside.

It really was a weight of his shoulders to not have to dress out or anything. Mostly because rain made him sleepy, but also because Nori hadn't been particularly nice the night before and he wasn't sure if he'd left a bruise or not. It was just better for him if he didn't have to dress out at all.

"Alright, for the remainder of the period, I want you all to sit up on the bleachers. If some of you want to play basketball, that's okay, but you're responsible for any equipment you use and if it isn't returned the way you found it, I'm writing some referrals. Alright, mingle." The woman walked away to talk with the other P.E. teachers, since all the scheduled physical education classes had been relocated to the gymnasium.

"Aw man!" whined Naruto, slumping over miserably as they made their way over to the bleachers, along with the rest of the horde of teenagers. "I wanted to play soccer!"

"In this rain?" asked Chouji incredulously. Gaara rolled his eyes.

"It's the curse of the stupid," droned the red-head. Naruto sent him a withering look.

"I'm not stupid, raccoon-eyes!"

"That's what they all say."

"But I'm not!"

"Well, then, what's the square root of 529?"

Naruto's face was utterly blank. "Um . . ."

"Exactly."

"Wait! That's a math question and I'm bad a math!" exclaimed the blonde. He whirled on Chouji, fixing the surprised student with a determined gleam. "Chouji, what's the square root of 529?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, it's . . ."

"23."

Naruto looked at him confusedly, now walking sideways, while Gaara just raised a nonexistent eyebrow. Chouji blinked, then nodded, wolfing down another handful of chips. He decided to ignore them, angling them towards the stairs that lead up to the top row of seats.

"How'd you know that, Shikamaru?" he asked, staring at the Nara with utter surprise. He sighed, casting a look over his shoulder before starting to climb up the makeshift stairs.

"If you ever took the time to look in the back of your math book, you'd know this stuff," he lied. "Besides, that kind of thing is for middle schoolers." He picked a row somewhere around the middle and sat down, Chouji taking the seat on his left with Naruto and Gaara seated on his right. There was a sea of students milling around on the basketball court, some of them trying to funnel their way up the bleacher steps and others trying to organize a basketball game. From his position, he had a good view of the front doors as well as the wooden-floored court and the teacher's post against the far wall. If only it weren't so freakin' loud.

"Okay, so we're sitting in class right? And Iruka's telling us about how in Junior year we're gonna have ta right a story so we'd better start learning how to make a structured sentence now so we don't fail the assignment, and I started talking about—"

Naruto continued to talk, but Shikamaru tuned him out, leaning back against the seats, his feet propped up and his hands laced behind his head, to take a much-needed nap. The unsavory din of the gym, as well as the rhythmic munching of Chouji, helped to lull him into an unaware state, and he was pleased to say that he was falling asleep.

Until he was so rudely interrupted.

Warm air was wafting over the skin of his face, heating him up before chilling his flesh and then repeated the process. It was distracting and troublesome, and he wondered vaguely if he was being teased by some sort of giant dog (although, since when did dogs use Listerine?), but when he'd yet to be licked by a slimy tongue, he decided it had to be human. However, what annoyed him most was that the person breathing on him seemed to be _smiling_. _How troublesome_, he thought. He opened his eyes.

A single blue eye, shaped a bit like a sideways teardrop, was staring back at him, the other covered by a curtain of bright blonde hair. He was, in fact, smiling, his face just inches from his own. From what he could tell, the other was leaning over him from the seat behind his head rest, and that there were quite a few more people huddled around then there had been previously. At the edge of his hearing he could pick out the uneven crunch of Chouji's nervous habit, and he decided it was time to ease his friend's anxiety.

"Get the hell out of my face, Birdie," he growled, keeping himself as still as possible (damn, he was so close!). The blonde's eye flashed with surprise, before his face split in a wide grin. Laughing, Deidara sat up, freeing his vision and allowing him to sit up and see just who'd joined the four of them at their seats.

Sasuke had wandered over to them, seating himself nonchalantly in front of Naruto (who was blushing furiously), Lee, also having decided to join them, perched next to Sasuke and trying to hold Chouji in a conversation (it wasn't going so well), though the most surprising people attending their group were the ones lined up behind them (and consequently, next to his head). He couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh disappointedly.

Sakon and Ukon were engaging Kisame and Kankuro in a game of Texas Hold'em, while Sasori pretended to ignore Deidara who was (still seated far too close to his head) grinning broadly down at him. Between a giggling Deidara and a politely listening Kankuro sat a very calm, very smug Itachi. Shikamaru had to resist the urge to sigh in exasperation. What the _hell_ was up with the freakin' universe? Was it _trying_ to drive him crazy?

"—has your face always been that tan?" That was Kisame, his voice curious and grating all at the same time. Kankuro's face twisted into a frown, and though he'd just been delt a new card, Shikamaru knew that look was directed at the question.

"I honestly don't know, blue boy, I don't look in the mirror that often."

"Obviously. I mean seriously, your pores are huge," said Sakon, riffling through his cards. Ukon rolled his eyes, and all those who heard him gave the freshman very strange looks.

"Dude, do you have any idea how gay that just sounded?" asked Kisame, blinking owlishly at the (much, _much_) smaller boy. Sakon blinked back, stilling his cards, before smiling.

"Who said I wasn't gay?"

"Okay, too much information," declared Naruto, holding up his hands.

"Oh, calm down Blondie. It's not like he declared that he had some sort of stuff cat filled with the bones of his dead mother who got butchered to death by a stray chainsaw."

There was a pause that was quite uncomfortable and Shikamaru had to wonder if maybe Gaara had hit the nail on the head with that one. Ukon burst out laughing, rocking back and forth with mirth. Sakon just rolled his eyes and tossed down some cards.

"Anyway," said Itachi, lightening the mood, "why aren't you wearing face paint? I don't think I've ever seen your face like that."

"Yeah well," grumbled Kankuro, studying his cards intensely, "I couldn't find it this morning and I didn't have enough time to look."

"I don't mind," said the older Uchiha with a smile. "You look cute."

A blush erupted on the middle Sabaku sibling's face, quite apparent now that he wasn't wearing his normal layer of thick make-up, and a few of them laughed, Gaara smirking as Deidara squealed and ruffled Kankuro's hair.

"Aw, Kanky's loved!"

"Shut up, Dei!"

"Hey, you guys want to play with us?" asked Naruto. Gaara and Naruto, as well as a far too enthused Lee and a reluctantly grinning Sasuke, had cut into the twins' game while the others had been talking and snatched up all the cards. Sitting up, he nodded his consent to the blonde and Chouji and he scooted to help form a sort-of-if-it-weren't-so-lopsided circle. They squeezed in between Gaara and Deidara, who'd flounced over at the announcement (how he could flounce over bleacher chairs, he had no idea, but the blonde managed it with flying colors) while Gaara handed Kankuro the cards for reshuffling.

"What game are we playing, my youthful comrades?" boomed Lee, bushy eyebrows shooting up and down in time to his words.

"It's called BS, or Bull Shit, and we start with putting down the ace then two's, three's four's and so on. I'll set down the first card and then Itachi, then Dei, then Shikamaru and onward," informed Kankuro smoothly, dealing out the cards. "Everyone puts down at least one card, and if you think someone's bluffing, you say BS, and if you're right, they take the pile, but if you're wrong, you take the pile. Got it?"

"Most definitely, my youthful drama partner!" saluted Lee, fanning his cards out in front of his face determinedly.

"Hey, you playin' Sasori, yeah?" asked Deidara, looking back over his shoulder at the reluctant red-head.

"No."

"Please, yeah? C'mon Sori, won't you play, yeah?"

"No."

Deidara stuck his tongue out at the older teen. "Meanie!" The red-head leaned forward to peck the blonde's nose, effectively silencing any further protests.

"Alright, anyway," said Ukon, rolling his eyes. "Kanky, why don't you start us off?"

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled the junior. "One ace."

"A pair of twos."

"One three, yeah!"

"I've got three fours."

"One five."

"Two sixes."

"Seven!"

"BS."

"Aaaaaarrrrggghhh!" roared Naruto, snatching up the pile angrily. Sasuke smirked, tossing down two cards.

"Two eights."

"BS!"

"Take it, Blondie."

"Dammit!"

"Ha ha! Sucker! I got four nines."

"One ten."

"Hey, did you know that the one-eyed Jack follows you where ever you go?"

They all looked over at Sakon, who was waving one of the cards in front of his face, one eye closed so the other could focus on the shifting image. There was a moment where no one said anything, simply watching the electric blue head bobble back and forth as he watched his card intensely. Ukon elbowed him in the side, snapping his attention back to the game, and Sakon blushed, tossing down his single card.

"One Jack."

"Two Queens, YOSH!"

"Ha, three kings."

"Two aces."

"A two, yeah."

"Three three's."

"Uh, a four."

"Ha! BS!"

"Darn."

"Okay, two fives."

"Four sixes!"

"A seven."

"An eight."

"Two nines."

"BS!"

"Alright, alright, no need to shout!"

"Three tens."

"Two Jacks."

"A queen."

"BS."

"Nicely done, Shikamaru."

"Haha, you took out the genius!"

"One king, yeah."

"An ace."

"A two."

"A three."

"BS!"

Gaara grinned. "Take it, Blondie."

"Dammit!"

* * *

"Now, as you'll see here, the cells that make up plant life include . . . ." Orochimaru's voice just barely penetrated the haze of his sleepy mind, though the steady beat of rain echoed clearly in his head. Only through self-preservation did his body allow him to sleep sitting up during his seventh period, and he could hardly blot out the glow of the overhead in the darkened room. Napping was so hard in this period. 

The desks had been rearranged (again) by fifth hour (again) and so the seating arrangement was skewed (_again_). Now all the desks were replaced with tables that seated two, and all the lab partners were grouped together around the room in some indiscriminate pattern. With this current seating chart, a very jittery, nervous looking Sasuke was thus seated beside him, barely able to restrain himself from tapping his pencil against the tabletop. His only consolation was that the raven-haired boy had yet to actually _say_ anything to him.

"The packet I'm handing out contains everything we've covered this week, and I want it turned in before the end of this class hour." Orochimaru passed around the papers, pausing just a tad too long at their table to hand Sasuke their worksheets. The younger Uchiha glared holes into the table, tossing him his paper without any thought as to where it would land.

Shikamaru blazed through the packet, taking special precaution not to finish before Sasuke. That kid was too bright, and caught on to situations far more quickly than he was comfortable with. While that might be great in, say, a chess match, it did very little to prolong his social life of secrecy. . . . Wow, that sounded like something out of a soap opera. Which was _really_ weird considering he didn't even watch daytime TV.

As Orochimaru went around collecting the finished worksheets, he stopped at their table, nonchalantly taking up their work. Sasuke was sitting stiffly, his clenched fists hidden under the desk as the snake man continued to eye him with frightfully yellow eyes. He could tell that there was something very . . . unholy about the interest their biology teacher was showing the black-eyed boy (jeeze, since when was he such a religious person?). Just as he passed behind them to take the Hotta twin's papers, he spoke in a far too relaxed tone.

"Uchiha, I'd like to see you after class."

He waited until the humanoid snake was at the other end of the room before jerking on Sasuke's sleeve. The raven-haired boy sent him a scathing look, his face a bit paler than it had been a few minutes before, and he snatched his arm away. Leaning forward, he locked eyes with Sasuke and held them.

"You can't stay after class," he hissed. Sasuke's face didn't change, but his eyes did.

"What are you talking about? I have to, he's a teacher!" the other growled back.

"No! I can _not_ be left alone with your psycho brother all afternoon. You're not staying after school."

"What?" Sasuke's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you talking about?"

"I . . ." —Fuck, how was he supposed to go about this?— "Your brother's offered me a ride home, since Kankuro's car doesn't have any more available seats, and said I could stay for lunch. The only reason I took the offer was 'cause I'm getting a ride and he's giving me free food. But I'm sure as hell not going to eat alone at your house with your brother."

Sasuke glowered. "You're such a prick, ya know that? Fine, you want me to come with you? Tell Orochimaru that."

"Fine." Swallowing all his survival instincts, Shikamaru forced his throat to work properly. Turning, he focused his gaze on their teacher and let his voice carry. "Orochimaru?"

The black haired teacher turned to look at them, his eyes cold and annoyed, as if to ask "what the hell do you want, slacker?" However, the teacher responded in a decidedly cool, silky tone. "Yes?"

"Sasuke can't make it after school. Maybe you can reschedule?"

Orochimaru's eye narrowed ever so slightly.

Oh, he was _so_ going to die.

"Really now?" said the biology teacher, stepping over to them. "And why is that?"

"He has a family issue that needs to be delt with and it can't be altered." The answer came out quickly, with little thought put into it, and he was utterly surprised at the reaction he got. Orochimaru had stopped moving and was eyeing him skeptically.

"If it's a family emergency, then I suppose there's very little I can do, now is there?"

He turned back around and continued to collect up their worksheets, ignoring the numerous stunned looks that were passed around the room at their intimidating teacher's retreat. Shikamaru turned back around to face the front of the room, slowly letting out the breath he'd been holding. He slumped forward, resting his chin on his arms and closing his eyes. _Damn, that had been close_.

"You _are_ going to tell me the truth about your little escapade with my brother, got that?" growled Sasuke close to his ear, before pulling away. He sighed.

It figures that this wouldn't be over. Damn the Uchihas!

* * *

_**To be continued . . . .**_


End file.
